The Agent and the Human Torch
by CeliaEquus
Summary: It's been six years since Johnny and Phil broke up. That doesn't stop them from remembering, and it doesn't stop them from pining. Nor, for that matter, does it stop their teams from trying to reunite them. Their story, told in flashbacks and the present time. Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers or Fantastic 4, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this.
1. Chapter 1

**A brief timeline, based on movie releases:**

**2004 – Fantastic Four created**

**2007 – Silver Surfer**

**2012 – Loki and Chitauri attack**

"Chapter One"

2013

"Mail's here!" Johnny called, bounding out of the elevator. He glanced up; no one else was in the room. Just as long as neither of the happily married couples were doing inappropriate things with each other. For God's sake, one of the women involved was his sister. (And he was still considering therapy, after all these years. The self-help books he pretended not to read sure as hell didn't help.)

With a shrug, Johnny went to the coffee table to sort out the huge wad of envelopes. At least Reed no longer received notifications for unpaid bills.

Reed, Reed, Susan, Alicia, Reed, Ben, Johnny, Ben, Susan and Reed, Ben and Alicia, Johnny…

The Fantastic Four Plus One. From Tony Stark.

"What the hell?" he muttered. Well, he was one of the Fantastic Four, so damned if he wasn't going to open this one. It was nice to be part of a group letter.

Or an invitation, as it turned out.

"What's up, Johnny?" Susan called. He noticed that she had come from the laboratory; even better, her clothes were tidy, and her hair was neat. Reed must have been too busy for anything inappropriate.

"Mail," he said, pushing two stacks towards her; one for Susan, one for Dr. and Mrs. Richards. "Plus one for the five of us."

"Who from?" she asked, now flicking through her letters.

"Tony Stark. As in _Iron Man_. It's an invitation to some shindig in a week's time."

"He likes to give plenty of notice, doesn't he?" Johnny snorted. "Can I see?"

"Sure," he said, handing it over. "It doesn't say what the party's for; with Stark, it could be anything."

"I'll have to call Pepper Potts about this," Susan said, tapping the edge of the invitation. "I don't like to disturb her, but…"

"We need to know what to wear," Johnny said, nodding.

"You're learning."

"I've always understood the importance of fancy clothing. Just as long as I don't have to burn it off."

"You know, you can hold a grudge for an awful long time," she said, and she smiled across at him. "Got anything for Reed?"

"Yep." He slid the largest pile to her. "And your attempted New York wedding wasn't the first time. It won't be the last, either."

She leaned forward to ruffle his hair, despite the baleful glare he gave her.

"It says all the Avengers will be there," she said.

"So?"

"The Avengers, Johnny. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Should it?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. She shook her head, sighing.

"Guess not," she said. "Just leave the rest of the mail. Ben and Alicia will get it when they're ready."

He nodded, and kicked the coffee table by accident. When Susan frowned at him over her shoulder, he held up his hands in an apologetic 'Don't shoot me' pose.

Why would the Avengers matter at all? It's not like they'd know anyone else there, not even someone remotely connected to them, never mind closely connected. It's not like SHIELD agents would even be invited. Right?

* * *

The majority of the photographs had Phil in the background. He blended in so well that no one noticed him enough to comment on the frequency – or the heated-slash-longing looks – neither then nor now. Nearly ten years after they first met.

Phil had been working for SHIELD for a long time. Being assigned as part-time liaison to the Fantastic Four was a failed attempt at convincing them to co-operate with SHIELD, and a successful attempt to exchange information on super-villains.

Johnny Storm was even more successful at getting under Phil Coulson's skin; at first, figuratively; later, literally. It was a casual relationship which lasted three years. Three years of falling in bed for the night, one of them leaving before the other awoke.

Things changed when Fury asked Phil to handle Clint. After Hawkeye, there was the Black Widow.

And then the Avengers Initiative. Iron Man. Thor. The Hulk. _Captain America_.

And Loki.

And now, looking over the old scrapbook of his short time with the Human Torch, Phil stared at the one honest snapshot of the two of them.

During one of Phil's visits, he and Johnny joined the others to watch a movie. They ended up fake-tussling over a difference of opinion. Reed took pictures, which gave Phil the idea of getting a proper photo with Johnny. Sue, being the closest, used Phil's mobile.

He saved it as his background; but he made Reed promise to delete the wrestling photos.

Now he wished he'd asked for some copies, even just one. At the time, he must've thought they'd be together fore—for longer. A ten year age difference was nothing; especially in their profession, where every second counted. The very next heartbeat could be your last. Phil knew that all too well—

"_Johnny… oh God, Johnny…"_

"_That's right, Phil. You like that? I know just what you like. What you _need_."_

"_Shut up and just… yes… nearly there, just… ah!"_

"_Love watching you fall apart, Phil."_

He shook the memory out of his head. There was no going back, only forward. He simply wanted to make sure that he was over Johnny Storm before the party tomorrow evening. Not that there was anything to get over; it had just been sex. And he didn't expect to see Johnny at the gala. Maybe from a distance. There was nothing unusual about that, and nothing wrong with wondering about an ex. They'd never been in a relationship anyway.

(Three years of falling in…)

"No," Phil said. His thumb had been edging towards Johnny's glossy, two-dimensional face, to caress it. He pulled back, as quickly as if he'd been burned.

* * *

2004

The party downstairs was loud, the room dark with only neon lights and the moon to light it, and the bar was hopping. People were dancing, the chicks were hot, and Johnny had just helped the others defeat Victor von Doom, so he had a perfect right to get it on with whoever the hell he wanted.

Mid-conversation with this jazzy little brunette, there was a quiet cough from behind Johnny. He craned his head just enough to check out whoever the stranger was. Shorter guy, light brown hair, blue-ish eyes, a bland smile. And in a suit. Not a snappy suit; just a suit. Johnny nodded casually, then turned back to the woman. She laughed lightly before he was even through his joke. There was that cough again.

"What?" he asked, turning around fully. He touched the girl's hand so she'd know he was still interested, and looked the man up and down properly. Unassuming; he definitely wouldn't catch Johnny's interest under any other circumstances.

"Mr. Storm, I'm Agent Phil Coulson from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, and I need to debrief you on—"

"Sorry, but I was planning on letting someone else debrief me tonight," Johnny said, and he winked at the girl. She giggled, and stroked his arm. He smirked at Agent… was it Coulson? It didn't matter.

"Miss Storm and Dr. Richards have already booked individual appointments with me to talk about what happened with Victor von Doom," the agent said. "Mr. Grimm has been too busy, but he informed me that you would be here."

"Uh-huh. Great. Get Sue to book some time, okay?"

"When are you available?"

Johnny glanced at the hot young thing still sipping her martini, and gave her his most potent heated look. "I'm _always_ available."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Great. Then you're available now."

Johnny's head jerked around, and he stared at this agent. "Huh?"

"If you follow me, Mr. Storm, we'll relocate to someplace quieter. If you cooperate, this won't take long." Johnny continued to gape. "It only hurts the first time, Mr. Storm."

He felt compelled to follow Coulson, barely looking at the woman again, as they left the party, and walked to a much quieter room. He didn't even register that they'd gone anywhere until they were in the elevator, heading for the Fantastic Four's suite.

"Hang on," he said, shaking his head. "Who are you again?"

"I'm Phil Coulson, and I'm an agent for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division—"

"That's a mouthful," Johnny said, crossing his arms and leaning against the elevator's wall. "What do you _do_?"

"Are you referring to my personal role, or the organisation?"

"Take your pick."

"Very well." He stood casually, one hand crossed over the other. "My current role is as liaison between SHIELD and the Fantastic Four."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

The elevator pinged and the doors opened. Coulson left first, obviously encouraged by Johnny's exaggeratedly polite gesture. It was way too hard to get a reading on this guy; he'd have to make more of an effort to throw him off.

"Your particular talents have drawn SHIELD's attention," Coulson said.

"Ooh." Johnny grinned as he sprawled out on the couch. He waved his hand towards the nearest armchair. "Take a seat. Tell me how I can… _service_ SHIELD's requirements." He propped his head up, still grinning mischievously. "Is your organisation really just a brothel? Because while my talents _may_ be useful there, I'm not desperate for money."

Coulson's expression didn't waver, not once, as he sat down. "I am referring to the superpowers you and your family – and von Doom – gained while you were on a science mission in space." He arched an eyebrow. "If SHIELD was a brothel, you would never consider letting your sister get involved."

Johnny tried to hold his temper in check; he really did. But in a second he was up in Coulson's face, and he snapped a flame into existent, barely two inches away from the agent's left cheek.

"You mean this talent?" he whispered. "That the talent you mean?"

Coulson didn't even look at the flame. He kept his eyes on Johnny's the whole time. Unflappable.

"Yes," he said. "Interesting. It seems that your sister is your weakness. I hope, for her sake, that no one else works that out. You might want to keep that temper of yours in check." Johnny just blinked. "I mean no disrespect towards your sister, Mr. Storm. You passed the test, by the way."

"Test? What, you need a test to get into SHIELD?"

"I doubt you're seeking employment with us, although part of my role is to offer you a job. We are very interested in you and your family, as I have said."

Johnny studied him, turned off the flame, and then returned to the sofa. "What do you want to know?"

"You failed the second test. You should have asked for identification."

"And you passed my test," Johnny said. "You told me to ask for ID."

And then – miracle of miracles – Agent Coulson smirked.

* * *

"How'd it go?" Fury asked. He was looking out of his office window, hands folded behind his back. Phil remained standing at attention.

"Mr. Grimm is a man of few words, until you get onto the topic of other people. He has the greatest respect for Dr. Richards, he's extremely fond of Miss Storm… and he is incredibly and unflatteringly verbose when it comes to discussing Mr. Storm."

"The Human Torch," Fury said. "What's he like?"

"Reckless, hot-headed," Fury chuckled, "arrogant, flirtatious—"

"Did he flirt with you?"

Phil grimaced. "Only innuendo. I don't think I've been scarred for life."

"He didn't interest you at all?"

"He's not my type, sir."

Fury shrugged. "Pity."

"Because I'm gay, or because I'm still single?"

"Both."

"Thank you, sir. Maybe Mr. Storm was right, and this _is_ a brothel."

Fury laughed as he turned around. "Are you calling me a pimp, Coulson?"

"I wouldn't dare, sir."

"Hmm. What is your type?"

"Director, don't you know that I would never settle for anyone less than the amazing and wholesome Captain America?" Phil said dryly.

"You know, I'd almost believe that if you didn't look up to him like an older brother."

Phil nodded, lips twitching up at the corners. "Miss Storm was the most helpful. Dr. Richards was constantly distracted. Do I have your permission to abridge his interview for the report?"

"Whatever you think's best, agent."

"Thank you, sir."

Phil was just leaving the office when Fury spoke again.

"You'll be going back," he said. "Try to get them to cooperate with SHIELD. Storm could do well here, as a pilot if nothing else. And get any more information you can on von Doom. Anything they wouldn't think to add, and anything they don't want to talk about."

"Sir… if you want me to talk to anyone other than Susan Storm, this could take awhile. And if they face any more missions—"

"You will continue to be their liaison between your own missions," Fury said. He sat down, and looked across the room to Phil. "You're the best I have, Coulson. Just let me know if you ever need a break."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

2013

Oh, yeah. He was looking _good_. Johnny would go so far as to say that he looked… hot?

Like that joke was ever gonna grow old.

He adjusted his tie, and studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror. When it came to science, Reed could compete with Tony Stark all he wanted. But when it came to scrubbing up, that was Johnny's territory. Sure, Phil always pulled off a suit better than anyone else he knew (and was damn good at pulling off Johnny's suits, for that matter).

Nope. He wasn't going to think like that. Tonight, he was going to be suave, the ultimate ladies' man. No eyes for any ex-boyfriends. (Only boyfriend.) He was dressing to impress women, not Phil Coul—

"You need some help?"

"You've been saying that for years," he joked, smiling at his sister over his shoulder.

"It was a question, not a statement," she said, walking forwards. She turned him around, and began to undo his tie. "You suck at these."

Used to bite down on them hard enough, he thought.

"It was perfect," he said, trying to push her hands away.

"What were you trying to do?"

"A Pratt knot!"

"Sounds about right," she muttered. Johnny glared disdainfully. "What style do you want?"

"I dunno. Half-Windsor?"

"What did he used to wear?"

"Who?"

Sue arched her eyebrows as she sped through the knot. "That SHIELD agent, the one you don't talk about. What was his name?"

"I can't remember," Johnny said, steadfastly looking at their reflection in the mirror. He looked away when she made eye contact with him.

"Well, we're not likely to see him tonight," she said. "There." She handed him his jacket. "Now come on. The others are ready. We all know you're vain, but you've outdone yourself this time."

"I look okay?" he asked.

"What? I didn't mean… Of course. Yes. You look fine." He glanced at the mirror again. She dragged him out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, we probably won't see him," he said. "You, uh, you sure I shouldn't wear the blue pinstripe?"

Sue hit him upside the head.

* * *

**This pairing is far too rare for my tastes. I have, of course, written an OT3 of Johnny/Phil/Steve. Plus sequel. (And yes, there's an 'of course' there. This is me.)**

**Anyway, I hope you like this fic. I enjoy experimenting with unusual ships. I'm trying to stay in character as much as I can, but having to dip into the past and have the occasional (*cough*) jump through time, and… yeah. Let me know if I go wildly OOC. If people can pair Phil with Tony, I'm sure it's possible to get away pairing him with Johnny Storm.**

**I've made a story banner for this, and you can find it on Deviantart. A link to my account is on my profile.**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Chapter Two"

2013

There were many reasons for the gala; Tony Stark liked to mess with the media, so he spread rumour after rumour, until no one actually knew the reason for the party.

"I'm Tony Stark," he said. "Do I _need_ a reason?"

"I need to know for whatever reports I have to write by the end of the night," Phil said, pinning Tony with his hardest stare. The billionaire snorted.

"No reports will be necessary, Agent," he said, waving his hand. "We'll all be on our best behaviour."

"I'd like that engraved in stone."

"You don't trust me?"

"What do you think, Mr. Stark?"

Tony huffed, faking hurt. "And to think that this party is really for you."

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

"No, really." Tony switched to serious, and he held Phil by the shoulders. "You nearly died, Agent; now you're back on your feet, running the Initiative, and Pepper wanted you to have a party. So you're getting a party."

Phil decided it was easier just to believe him. "How many people are under that impression?"

"What, that I'm throwing you a party?"

"A gala, to be more accurate. And yes, that is what I mean."

"Uh… you, me, Pepper, Cap," he squinted, "Clint and Tasha, Bruce, Thor isn't here, and I think I told Prof Xavier? Oh, and Sitwell might know. And Reed Richards. I can't remember."

"Tony—"

"Aha! I got you to say my name!" Tony pumped his fist. "JARVIS, you've got evidence, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Great. Send it to Rhodey. I told him I'd do it."

Phil was barely listening. If Reed knew, did that mean that Johnny would know? Would the Fantastic Four even show up?

"Do you know how many accepted their invitations?" he asked absently. Tony shrugged.

"I think pretty much everyone's coming," he said. "Well, most of them. Ask Pepper."

When they arrived at the convention centre, Phil tried to enter unseen. But Tony insisted that they all enter the conventional way – through the doors – including all SHIELD agents and gamma radiation scientists.

"If my parents see this on the news, my cover as an accountant will be completely blown," Phil said. Deadpan was normal. It distracted him from the boxing match in his chest.

"Wait, your parents think you're an accountant? Really?"

"I hope that look on your face is all over Twitter and Tumblr by tomorrow."

Tony broke into his usual media-specific grin, and encouraged his fellow Avengers and Phil to walk ahead, first in a group, and then forming a line when they reached the doors to file past security. Why security was even necessary at an event populated by superheroes was something only Pepper Potts knew. If it meant that minor problems could be dealt with by other people, Phil didn't mind at all. He didn't like paperwork that much.

The room was already a third of the way filled. Phil recognised most of them from SHIELD's files.

Speaking of SHIELD…

"Sir," he said, immediately joining Fury, despite Tony's protests. "Surprising to see you here."

"Think of it as a networking opportunity," the director replied. "Go enjoy your party, agent."

"Yes, sir," Phil said.

"Yo, Richards!"

Phil tensed, and looked towards the doorway. Reed and Sue Richards had just walked in, and Tony was already making a beeline towards them. He glanced over, and began gesturing for Phil to join them.

"Good luck," Fury said. Phil's head snapped around.

"Sir," he said. "I can't… I don't think it's a good idea—"

"You've never been the same, Cheese. Get closure. Or get in his pants." Phil tried not to scowl as his superior hid a smirk behind his glass of champagne.

"That door is closed," he said.

"Agent!"

Phil growled softly as he turned around. Tony was increasingly emphatic in his waving. Rather than draw any more attention, Phil sighed, and walked over to one of the married couples of the Fantastic Four.

"Let me present the real reason for this party: Phil Coulson," Tony said, pulling Phil closer. "Phil, Mr. Fantastic and the Invisible Woman."

"Good evening," Phil said. "Mr. Stark," Tony frowned, "Tony, I'm sure we're blocking the doorway here."

"Bitch, please," Tony said, "pretty much everyone is here already. Just ask Pepper."

"Where is Miss Potts?" Sue asked. She and Reed were both watching Phil. Tony didn't even notice.

"She's around. I'll go find her." Tony started to turn, then he perked up. "And here's the rest of the team." He gestured. "The Thing and his wife… Alice?"

"Alicia," the young woman corrected.

"That's right," Tony said, snapping his fingers. "She's an artist. And here's The Human Torch, my personal favourite. But don't tell the others." He was distracted straight away by the sight of his red-haired girlfriend passing by. "Hey, Pepper!"

He disappeared, leaving Phil standing awkwardly with the others.

"Hi, Phil," Ben Grimm grunted, raising a rocky hand.

"Ben," Phil said. "Congratulations on your marriage. I saw the pictures in the paper; you both looked great."

"We'll go get some drinks," Sue said, pushing at Reed. "Come on."

The Grimms followed, leaving just Phil and Johnny.

* * *

"Hi," Johnny said. He awkwardly stuck out one hand. Phil hesitated, then took it. "Great to see you again. Heard you had a brush with death?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Phil said. "And it's not like you've never faced death before, either."

Johnny realised that they were still holding hands, but he didn't want it to end, despite the shivers it send up his arm. Eventually, Phil let go, and they stood there silently.

"You look good," Phil said. Johnny hoped that his gulp wasn't obvious. "But then you always did."

"Thanks. You, uh, you look good, too. You look the same as ever."

Phil laughed softly. "That bad, huh?"

"No! No, you always looked… The tie suits you," he blurted out.

The tie suits you? he thought. The hell, Storm?

"I believe this is the one you replaced after…" Phil cleared his throat, and Johnny tried not to blush.

"Having fun looking after superheroes again?" he said, trying to find something interesting to talk about. It was better than spilling any of his real thoughts.

"It's something we've been working towards for a long time," Phil said. They both grabbed a glass from a passing waiter. "And I was never looking after you and your family."

"Weren't you?" Johnny asked. Phil didn't reply. "Sorry. I didn't mean… It must be pretty cool. You've got an honest-to-God god on your team. And Captain America. I know you've always been a big fan."

"I'm not the only Captain America fan," Phil said. He was smiling now. Johnny couldn't help but smile back. "I'm just one of the lucky few who gets to work with him."

"Boss him around sometimes, I hear."

"Not at all. Steve is the leader; I'm more a liaison."

"You fill that role well," Johnny said. Their eyes met at the same moment, and it was like hurtling back six years in time. "I… We miss you."

"It's been a long time for you to miss me," Phil said, and he took a sip. Johnny looked down at his own glass of whatever it was. He couldn't taste it. "I believe Director Fury has maintained contact with Reed, to trade information. He's the ultimate liaison; even at an event like this, he's networking."

"Yeah, he's kept in touch with…"

The band struck up a new song, and a woman began to croon.

'_It seems we've stood and talked like this before,_

_We looked at each other in the same way then,_

_But I can't remember where or when._'

"Congratulations on that stunt bike win last month," Phil said. Johnny nearly choked mid-breath.

"You heard about that?"

"Saw it on the news. We do keep tabs on you."

"Wow," Johnny said, and he grinned. "You voyeurs."

Phil didn't have to say anything; his look was enough.

'_The clothes you're wearing are the clothes you wore,_

_The smile you are smiling you were smiling then,_

_But I can't remember where or when._'

"We met at a party, if I remember right," Johnny said. It was pink champagne.

"You were chatting up a woman at the bar. Though that could've been any party."

"You had my full attention as soon as you told me why you were there."

"Yes," Phil said. He finished his drink. "You were protective of your family, even then. You made it clear that there was no way you were going to be drawn into anything government-related. No one told you what to do, you said."

'_Some things that happened for the first time_

_Seem to be happening again._'

Johnny snorted, and sculled the rest of his champers. "Well, we didn't even know each other then."

"We never got to know each other." Johnny stared at him. "I'm sorry. I won't mention it, I promise."

"Mention what?"

'_And so it seems that we have met before,_

_And laughed before, and loved before_'

"Nothing," Phil said. "It was good to see you, Johnny."

'_But who knows where or when?_'

"Uh…" Phil disappeared as quickly as Stark had, and Johnny was left alone. "You too, Phil."

He tracked Phil's movements. His former lov— boyfr— whatever met up with the famous Steve Rogers, and they began to converse.

'_Some things that happened for the first time_

_Seem to be happening again_.'

He moved closer, until he could see Captain America properly. If the rumours were true…

'_And so it seems that we have met before_

_And laughed before_'

The captain looked up.

'_And loved before_'

Oh God.

'_But who knows where or when?_'

They could've been twins.

There was a deafening wave of applause around him, but he barely noticed. Because Phil and Captain America were definitely having a great conversation, filled with smiles and laughter and clear mutual admiration, and Captain America had Johnny's face.

Yeah, Johnny had done the seducing. God knows he'd tried long enough to crack Phil Coulson. Johnny came up with the idea to flirt with him, try to make him uncomfortable so that he'd go away, and SHIELD would leave them alone. When the agent remained unflappable, Johnny took it up a notch. Soon, the game turned serious. After he saw Phil foil a mugging without breaking a sweat and before Johnny could even say 'Flame on', he felt the stirrings of attraction he had only ever felt with women. It didn't make sense; not for an older guy, a suit.

Before he knew it, the flirting had become genuine. Whatever it was about this guy, Johnny persisted until he got what he want.

Unfortunately, Johnny no longer had him.

And Phil had who he really wanted all along.

* * *

"You've at least got to try and get to know other people here," Phil said. "Everyone here has a different story, and nearly everyone in this room is some kind of hero. They're exceptional people. And I bet a lot of them are fans of yours."

"Yeah, which can make it awkward, as you know," Steve said. He laughed nervously. "Look, it's nice of you to stay and talk with me, but I'm sure you'd rather be making the rounds yourself."

"I'm just looking after my team," Phil said. "You were the closest. I'll tackle the doctor next; I think he needs rescuing. Maybe I should introduce him to Re— Dr. Richards."

"Tony's okay," Steve said, and he picked up an orange juice from a passing waiter. "Thanks. We don't have to worry about him. And he has Miss Potts."

"Clint and Natasha are fine. They just stick together when possible. Natasha is happy to blend in anywhere. Clint…" He grimaced. "Less so. He pretends to be okay with occasions such as these, but he'd rather be anywhere else." Phil shrugged, and drank some more champagne. "I've known him longer than I've known any of you."

"Do you want me to take care of Bruce?" Steve asked.

"I'm fine, thanks. You enjoy yourself. I have experience in these matters." He gave the captain a small wink, and Steve laughed. "Have a nice evening, Steve."

"You too, Phil."

* * *

"Hi," Steve said. The man with short brown hair turned, and Steve was taken aback. "Wow. We really do look alike."

"Do we?"

Steve grinned, and held out his hand. "Steve Rogers. You Johnny Storm?"

"That's right," Johnny said, clasping Steve's hand for a second, then letting go. The heat was palpable. "You're the real Captain America?"

He laughed self-deprecatingly. "Yeah. You're not gonna tease me about the old films like Tony does, are you?" Johnny shook his head. "Great. Thanks. It gets a bit old after awhile."

"Like you?"

"Like me," Steve agreed, and he downed some of his juice, never taking his eyes away from his doppelganger's face. "The others didn't say whether they'd met you before, but Tony invited you, so you've gotta know him."

"Never met him, actually," Johnny said. "He and Reed know each other for obvious reasons. But I haven't worked with any of your team-mates before. I think Reed and Banner have met; again, obvious reasons."

Steve nodded, and finished his juice. "You guys ever helped SHIELD?"

"We've… done business together," Johnny said. "Liaised with them."

"Really? Who was their representative?"

"…Agent Coulson."

"You know Phil?" Steve brightened. "When did you meet?"

"Nine years ago. It'll be ten in about six months."

"Wow. What was he like then? Has he changed at all?"

"No," Johnny said softly. "He hasn't changed much."

"It was awkward at first," Steve said, continuing blithely. "I mean, he's a… a bit of a fan, and I felt so guilty about not signing his cards when Fury told us he'd died. But then he came back, and we've sorted everything out, and it's just great. He's really smart, isn't he?"

"Yep."

He nodded again, and grabbed a cracker with fish paste (or something), and munched on it, still studying Johnny. "It's incredible. We really are so alike."

"I've noticed."

"Heck, we even sound alike. If I cut my hair and dyed it, we could pretend to be each other, like in that movie. I think Clint recommended it. The something trap."

"_The Parent Trap_."

"That's it," Steve said, snapping his fingers. "Do you think your sister would know?"

Johnny snorted. "She'd know all right. I don't think Reed would notice. Besides, anyone would have to touch one of us to know. I don't know whether you've noticed it, but I kind of run at a higher temperature."

"Oh, I know. I was just… making conversation. It's stupid. Forget it."

"I will," Johnny said, and he finished his glass of what looked like pink lemonade. Heck, if Steve had known they had pink lemonade, he would've had some of that instead of orange juice. "I'd better let you go. You've probably got to mingle or something."

"Nah," Steve said. "Phil told me I didn't have to talk to anyone I don't want to."

"That's swell of him."

Steve frowned. Was Storm making fun of him? "I guess I should meet some new people. I haven't said hello to your team-mates yet, so I'll go do that. See ya."

"Bye."

As Steve made his way along the tables, keeping an eye out for pink lemonade, he noticed Phil staring at Johnny. Well, it didn't look like they'd been friends, judging by how tense they'd been earlier. Probably just as well. Johnny Storm didn't seem like the friendliest of people.

* * *

2006

"Do I even want to know what this is for?" Johnny asked, poking a spot on Phil's lower back. The agent squirmed.

"What's that?" he said, knowing full well what Johnny meant.

"The tattoo. Didn't have you pegged as a tattoo kind of guy."

"I'm a man of many secrets."

"So I've noticed," Johnny said, and he kissed the spot just above the ink. "Just wondering why you have a tattoo of the Captain America shield on your back, and right here. Only a few inches above your ass. Which, by the way, is a very nice ass."

"Thanks," Phil said dryly. "I've always been a fan."

"Of this?" Johnny spanked him lightly; Phil's hips bucked against his better judgement, and he just knew that the Human Torch was grinning wickedly.

"_No_," he said. "Of Captain America. Ever since I was a kid, I've looked up to him. When I finally decided to get a tat, I chose to get the shield done."

"Was this after you joined your own SHIELD?"

"Actually, yes. It was. I got it inked there because that would be the place I'd most want protected. If someone shot or knifed me there, I'd end up paraplegic or quadriplegic. I'd rather be dead. In my line of work… and with no one to look after me, not that I'd want anyone to do that anyway…" He shrugged. "It's symbolic, that's all. The shield protecting me. Besides." He settled down, resting his chin on his folded arms. "I'm not getting Captain America's shield tattooed on my other most vulnerable spot."

"Oh, I know all of your vulnerable spots," Johnny said. Phil didn't need to see him to know the intention undoubtedly in his eyes. "But I've gotta admit, I'd prefer you to be alive."

"So I'd be here to warm your bed?"

Johnny didn't speak for a minute, and Phil cursed himself in his head. But then…

"Baby, I'm my own personal sauna."

Phil laughed, relieved, and let Johnny turn him over.

"That you are," he said, shivering as hot fingers traced paths between his most sensitive spots.

"You really like Captain America?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah, can we not talk about this right now?"

"Don't tell me you never dreamed about what it would be like to be held by your hero?" Johnny said, smirking as Phil wriggled away from his questing fingers. "To be kissed by him," he kissed Phil, "stroked by him," he caressed Phil's sides, "_taken_ by him?"

"No," Phil gasped, arching up against him.

"You don't want Captain America?"

Phil studied Johnny's face. Then he lunged, knocking Johnny onto his back, and kissed him frantically.

He wanted a different hero entirely.

* * *

**Yeah, Phil's dreamed about a hero. It's just not Captain America he's dreamed about sharing a bed with…**

**Enjoying the story so far? I hope so. Every time I write for an rare ship, I get nervous about how my little 'experiment' will go. Ergo, I need reassurance. Lots and lots of reassurance. Or even a tiny bit of reassurance. Whatever's to hand.**

**Please review!**

**By the way, 'champers' is slang for champagne. I don't know whether that's an Australian thing or not. Thought I should clarify.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: Mentions of past suicidal thoughts.**

"Chapter Three"

2013

Johnny couldn't sleep after they got home from the gala. He instead turned on his computer, and located the folder.

There they were. If Phil knew they were here, he'd insist on deleting them for security reasons alone. And despite Johnny's complicated maze of folders, Phil could find the pictures of them wrestling, easy. Even if he had to resort to tickling Johnny to extract the details. Johnny would just tickle him right back. One of the few – if not only – weaknesses they shared. A tickle war was always a great way to distract Phil and entice him into bed. It was practically a form of foreplay for them.

Amazing as the sex was, it'd become bittersweet. After a year, Johnny had noticed that most mornings he would roll over, arm outstretched, expecting to find Phil. But Phil would be gone. The few times Johnny got up first, he would only leave the bedroom – or wherever – for a couple of minutes, and return to find Phil had left, almost like magic.

So, while he lo— liked the sex, it inevitably led to Phil leaving, or – on a _very_ rare occasion – Johnny having to disappear. At least they would always come back to each other.

Until one morning where Phil was waiting. Because of what'd been said the night before, he wondered whether Phil was about to suggest they take this thing to the next level, whatever that level was. The possibility made him nervous. When Phil told him that they wouldn't be able to see each other anymore, he was so relieved that he was agreeing to a permanent split before he could think things through. Then he was so dumbstruck that Phil's good-bye kiss – their last kiss ever – didn't even register until the door closed, and Johnny realised that his lips were still tingling, with no memory to show for it.

He paused over his favourite picture. It was an action shot, taken during their spontaneous wrestling match. There was a pair of legs in the background – probably Alicia's – but that part of the photograph was out of focus, in favour of Johnny and Phil in the foreground. It was such a clear picture that an outsider wouldn't have known that they'd been tussling each other and rolling over at the time.

In the picture, Phil just happened to be on top at that moment, and it looked like he was hovering over Johnny in some kind of cheesy romance film. Okay, they'd been having fun, so that's why they were smiling. And they just happened to be looking at each other because they _were_ wrestling, after all. It didn't mean anything that one of Johnny's hands was on Phil's shoulder, the other at his side, or that one of Phil's hands was on Johnny's side and one on the floor. That was just because it was mid-wrestle.

But whenever Johnny looked at the smile on Phil's face, and zoomed in to study the look in his eyes, it made his heart ache with want. Wanting that look focussed on him again, wanting the affection to have been real, wanting to go back in time and change it so that he stopped Phil that morning, yanked him back into bed, and never let him leave again.

"Stop it," Johnny begged himself softly. "Don't… don't think like—"

"Johnny?"

He swivelled in his chair, surprised that it was Reed at the door. The scientist cocked his head, and Johnny quickly closed his folder.

"What is it, Reed?" he asked.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine. Couldn't be better. Now you go on back to bed. I promise I won't stay up past my curfew."

Reed hesitated, then stepped into the room. Johnny swallowed, and shut the computer down, the image he obsessed over already burned into his soul long ago.

"I'm not the most observant of guys," Reed said. "Not with people. But we all watched you tonight, with Phil. Don't pretend you didn't remember him."

"Of course I remembered him," Johnny said. "We slept together for three years."

"And how much of that time did you love him?" Johnny didn't answer. He tried desperately not to melt the chair he was sitting on with the heat of embarrassment. "We all worried. Alicia agreed that Phil sounded a lot older—"

"He didn't!" Johnny protested. "He's just the same as ever. And, for that matter, Grandpa, we all look a little older. Except Ben. But I keep waiting for him to fully erode one day."

"Erode fully," Reed said. "Don't split your infinitives." Johnny didn't suppress the urge to stick out his tongue. "I don't want you hurt again. Last time it took awhile, and any relationships – even with Frankie – petered out quickly. Coulson was your longest relationship—"

"It wasn't a relationship. We only slept together, Reed."

"It was a relationship," he said sternly. "Face the facts, Johnny, and either get over it or go after him. But if you go after him, protect your heart. You're family, and SHIELD agent or not, he won't be welcome if he breaks you again."

"I wasn't broken," Johnny muttered.

"You didn't give yourself time to heal, and when you finally gave up on the dating game altogether – don't deny you did, Johnny – we saw a lot less of you. You even went on holiday without letting us know where you were going. If it wasn't for Tony Stark's technology, we never would've found you in time." Johnny stared at him blankly. "Sue pulled that bottle of whiskey out of your hand, and Alicia helped me find the rest of it stashed around the holiday house you'd rented, including the broken bottles. Then I found the pills in the bathroom cabinet, all under your name, from different pharmacists. If you'd taken all those, combined with all that alcohol—"

"I would've killed myself," Johnny said. "I know. That was… that was the object of the exercise." He drew in a shuddering breath. "Look, you don't have to worry about that happening again, okay? It was just the once. I got over it, got over _him_, and it was the anniversary of our break-up, so I was a little down."

"That's why we went after you," Reed said, walking to the door. "Ben pointed out that it was probably a year since Coulson left us—"

"He didn't leave you! He left me. He was mine, and he left me."

Reed arched an eyebrow. "And you say you weren't in a relationship." Johnny couldn't reply to that. "Get some sleep, and stop looking at those photos. Susan says it's creepy, and I agree with her. Good night, Johnny."

"…Good night, Reed."

* * *

2005

"She's cute," Phil said, hiding a grin behind his champagne flute as a red-head passed them. Johnny rolled his eyes.

"You trying to tell me something, Phil?" he asked. "You don't want to hook up with me tonight?"

"Who said anything about hooks?" Phil asked, wide-eyed. "Have you had something new put in your room since I was last there?"

"Two nights ago? If I wanted to get that kinky, I'd leave myself more time to get something like hooks and chains set up, and I'd put `em in a different room. Not our bedroom."

Phil didn't comment on 'our'. He just took another sip of champagne, and leaned slightly towards Johnny, pressing into his side. It was subtle enough for anyone watching them to think that he was perhaps a bit unsteady from drink, or that he was nudging Johnny while they people-watched. When Johnny straightened up, it would've looked like they separated a little, even though it was the opposite; they were closer together this way.

"When did you realise you were gay?" Johnny asked. Phil almost choked on his drink. "Sorry. Just making conversation."

"I'm just surprised you haven't brought it up already," Phil muttered. Johnny tilted his head.

"How do you know something isn't already up?" he murmured. Phil studiously did not shiver, from the words, the implication, or the soft breeze of Johnny's aromatic breath.

"I knew from the first moment I saw you," he said dryly, forcing away the thoughts of 'Take me, take me!' trying to escape his lips. Johnny laughed.

"No, really," he said. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me."

Phil glanced down. "I felt attracted to someone I saw in a film, and that's when I had my revelation. Nothing more to it."

"Okay," Johnny said, and he sculled a shot of whiskey. "Where're we going after the party?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Well," Johnny turned around so that his front was now brushing up to Phil's side, "I haven't seen your place yet. We need to christen your bed."

"I've slept in my bed many times. It's already christened."

"But _we_ haven't slept in it together," Johnny said, and he secreted one hand around to cup Phil's ass, and give it a squeeze. Nick was across the room, and he was shooting Phil the occasional smirk.

"I hardly think that's necessary."

"Why? You haven't got an insane wife locked in the attic, have you?"

"No."

"Or a sane wife keeping house?"

"You know my preferences, and gay marriage isn't yet legal. Also," he rolled his eyes around to meet Johnny's, "I'm no cheater."

"Neither am I," Johnny said softly. They continued to look at each other for a millennium, until Johnny's sneaky hand stroked up to Phil's waist, before pulling him close. "Let's go now, before I burst my seams."

"You are easy tonight."

"It's the hook you mentioned. I can't stop thinking about the possibilities, and it's making me horny as hell."

"Wow, you smooth talker, you."

"C'mon," Johnny said, and he placed their drinks on the closest table, before returning to Phil's side. "Take me home, Phil. I want to see your place."

"Prepare to be under-whelmed," Phil said.

* * *

It was a neat little apartment, but pretty bare. It's true that Phil spent a lot of time at work. Yet… surely he wanted something less drab than dull grey-green walls and a few sticks of furniture? Where was the red-white-and-blue he was expecting? Or, hell, even some black to go with his suits?

"Okay, that's kind of creepy," Johnny said when Phil showed him the Captain America room. It was basically a shrine to Phil's childhood hero, with posters, memorabilia, comics preserved in plastic sleeves, laminated newspaper clippings, even a ratty old kids' costume. "Why isn't that in mint condition, like the rest of this stuff?"

"'Stuff'?" Phil repeated with an arched eyebrow. Johnny rolled his eyes.

"The rest of this awesome – kind of obsessive – collection. Isn't the suit kind of… hang on. That was yours when you were a kid, wasn't it?"

"It's still mine," Phil said primly. Johnny burst out laughing. "Yes, yes. You never celebrated Halloween?"

"Not as America's poster boy for heroism," Johnny said, trying to stop his giggles. "As a ghost or a zombie, yeah. I would've done. But what's so scary about Captain America?"

"He knocked out 'Hitler' a hundred times."

"There's that irony again. God, you make irony sexy, Phil."

Phil's eyebrow shot straight up again. "I'll thank you not to talk like that in this room."

"…So where's your bedroom?"

They christened the bed several times during the night. Johnny would've stayed all morning if he could, only Susan called to find out where he was, and Phil made it clear that it was time to leave for work anyway.

It took a number of months, but Johnny soon got the hint that Phil wasn't interested in anything with him by the light of day.

* * *

2013

Seeing Johnny brought back a tidal wave of feelings Phil had tried to forget. Figuring that this was a sign that it was time to try dating again, even if it could only ever be casual, he sucked up his pride and joined a dating website. He'd try more conventional methods, of course; this was his back-up, like a long-range sniper watching his six.

No. That was a terrible analogy. He'd have to snap out of his agent mindset if he had a hope in hell of finding someone he could see outside of the stress of SHIELD and the Avengers.

This online dating thing was bound to be a flop. He wasn't expecting anything to happen with that. On the other hand, what could he expect trying to pick up a stranger at a bar? Would anyone be interested? Or was his everyman persona and government agent stare going to prove off-putting to members of the general public? Without wanting to stereotype in any way, Phil didn't even look like the kind of man who went to gay bars, except maybe to arrest someone in a drug raid. (Actually, considering his line of work, it would have to be something more sinister than a drug raid.)

The point was, he didn't see how he could do any worse. He'd just remind himself of Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, and feel slightly calmer (less pathetic) again.

For God's sake. A man his age – more to the point, with his ten lifetimes of experience – using a website to find 'true love'? When he almost had it with—

"Don't even think his name," he muttered as he clicked the submit button. "Whatever you do, don't think his name."

* * *

Johnny logged on. He joined the site… well, he joined the site because he'd been Googling himself one day, and found that someone referred to him on their dating site profile. He searched for the other members of the Fantastic Four, and found that they were mentioned as well. He had to ignore the ones which mentioned his sister, because Reed had to run in with the fire extinguisher when the smoke alarm went off after Johnny read one comment.

Some of the more interesting ones were on private profiles, though, so he signed up. Soon, he realised that he was genuinely interested in reading what people said about themselves, and the kind of match they were after. (About a third of the comments related to Johnny involved using 'match-making' in some terrible pun.) Some of the profiles had him in fits of laughter, some had him considering calling the police, and some of them seemed to be from people who were taking this seriously.

Then he received interest from others on the site.

There was no way he could date someone ordinarily. His own profile – as the Human Torch, not JrFred – allowed for quick lays or weird stalkers. Anything longer would be heavily scrutinised, and maybe even ruined, by the media and the public. Anonymous dating had quickly become the only option in his mind. He couldn't bring himself to go back to—

"Not him," Johnny said, shaking his head as the insanely fast internet connection jumped into action, and he clicked on his inbox. "Head in the game, Storm."

It'd been a week, but seeing Phi— his ex-whatever had shaken him, and reminded him of what he was missing by not dating. There were five new profiles close to his preferences, which had been sent through the intricate alert system. Okay, it wasn't that intricate; but it didn't take a tech whiz like Tony Stark to hack into the website and discover that, yes, the system worked just fine. There was no need for paranoia.

On a whim, Johnny went in and changed his preferences. Maybe the reason he hadn't found anyone was because he was searching for someone just… not his type. Maybe his type was closer to his previous (only) long-term relationship. Frankie had been a bust; she'd been great, but not P—

When Susan and Reed had finally wed, Frankie had given him a look of annoyance when he flamed the wedding bouquet. It wasn't so much reflex; it was just that, even then, he could tell that he didn't want forever with her. She was who he'd wanted to be with when he thought the world was ending (because he had no chance with Phi— him), but that was it. And, despite his reputation thus far, he was starting to look for forever. What was wrong with wanting permanency with the one you loved?

He found himself changing his preferences for someone older, someone male, someone with blue or blue-grey eyes… someone who was far too close to P— a certain agent for Johnny's liking. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he went to click 'Cancel'…

And accidentally hit 'Submit'.

"Fine!" he said, throwing his hands up. "Let fate take its course or whatever. I'm going for a ride."

He went to close the browser when he noticed the set of profiles based on his preferences, starting with the newest. He studied it, and the next few. Maybe…

He settled down, scooted closer, and began to read them properly.

* * *

2007

"It's your fault we're in this mess, Coulson."

"Sir?" Phil said, rubbing his left eye with one hand and holding his phone with the other.

"Agent Barton. You brought him in, he's your responsibility."

Phil blinked, still kind of sleepy after last night. He couldn't remember much, but he knew he'd slept better than usual. Johnny was warmer than usual, which probably helped. The Human Torch didn't like to risk being too warm before he fell asleep, just in case, despite Phil's constant reassurances that he knew how to handle himself in case of fire. He was a light sleeper on top of that.

(Johnny had made a crude remark the first time Phil used that phrase 'on top of that', which ended with Phil riding him on the sofa and yanking Johnny's hair.)

"I thought he was with Li—"

"Yeah, that didn't work out. Barton's brand of sass can only be handled by you. Phil, I'm not only ordering you. I'm asking you. You went out on a limb to get this kid a chance I'm not sure he deserves."

"He does deserve it, sir—"

"Then prove it. Come back to headquarters, and you can get acquainted. If you can bring him to heel – or however you handle it – then you can expect a lot of very cool missions." Phil rolled his eyes. "C'mon. We might even set you on the trail of some big bad guys. There's the infamous Black Widow, the legendary Winter Soldier, the elusive…"

Phil sighed. "I get it. Tame Barton. Get the best missions. Everyone wins." He glanced at the door to the bedroom, and frowned. "What about…"

"What about what?"

Phil made some quick mental calculations. If what he heard about Barton was true, the man was a difficult case. If he succeeded, and if Barton really did have the talent, the major ops could take them to far-flung places for great lengths of time. It wasn't fair to Johnny to make him wait; it also wasn't fair to make the Torch feel guilty if he cheated on Phil. Not that they were really together. Exclusivity was never even mentioned.

But it looked like there would be nothing between them for a long time. At least for the next several months, maybe a year, Phil probably wouldn't even have time to meet him, let alone spend the night together. No. It wasn't fair to either of them.

He'd have to end this, today.

"I'll be at HQ by lunchtime," Phil said, and he hung up.

When he told Johnny that they'd have to spend some time apart, the Torch looked at him blankly, possibly still half-asleep. But Phil gave him the option of making the split permanent, and Johnny agreed.

And that was it. One final kiss, with none of the Human Torch's usual fire, and Phil left.

It tore him apart.

* * *

2013

Apparently Johnny really liked irony, or at least people – guys – who knew how to wield it like the weapon it was. The tone of The(S)wordsman's profile was wry, with some touches of sincerity. For example, when he said that while he loved to collect things, he would stop at one heart, as long as it was the right one. It was clumsily worded, but then this guy obviously wasn't aiming for poetry. Just facts, with a bit of wordplay.

When Johnny saw that he was online, he opened up a chat.

JrFred: Hi. Do you prefer the sword or the word?

The(S)wordsman: I'm adaptable. You?

JrFred: It used to be the sword all the way. Recent years have changed my opinion. Yeah, I'd say I'm pretty flexible, too. In more ways than one. ;)

The(S)wordsman: Are you usually this forward, or am I a special case?

JrFred: Sorry. Do you want me to back off?

The(S)wordsman: I didn't say I minded.

There didn't even need to be a winking emoticon. Johnny could tell that The(S)wordsman was winking at the computer screen, and he knew that The(S)wordsman knew that he knew.

Hot damn.

JrFred: I hope you don't mind this kind of welcome to the site.

The(S)wordsman: Liking it more and more.

JrFred: Me too, and I've been on here awhile.

The(S)wordsman: And you haven't found anyone yet? A charmer like you?

Johnny snorted.

JrFred: Hey! I'll have you know that I do just fine in real life. It's just hard to find someone sincere when you try online dating.

The(S)wordsman: If you do 'just fine in real life', why are you on here?

JrFred: Because 'just fine' doesn't automatically lead to a happy ending. It has to be right. I was kind of hoping to find someone based on their personality. Yeah, we'd meet up eventually, and hope that everything was just as great in person. If it isn't, I can say I've tried. Like the first time I had sushi.

Rather than elaborating, Johnny took a break so that The(S)wordsman could read all that and then answer. While he waited, his mind drifted off to his first taste of sushi. It was with Phil, during a really hot summer…

The 'bloop' of a new message drew his attention back to the screen.

The(S)wordsman: I agree. Although I don't do any good in real life. Partly because I don't usually have time with my work, and partly because no one thinks to look at me twice, unless they think they can use me for something.

Johnny couldn't answer right away. When he finally got his fingers to work, he replied with the first thing that came to his mind.

JrFred: Are you kidding? Five minutes' conversation with you and I'm hooked.

There was a two minute space, and his anxiety levels began to increase. Saying the first thing that came to his mind was always a bad idea. Jesus, he'd screwed this up already, and it was only their first – and now probably last – conversation. The only plus side was that The(S)wordsman hadn't actually left the chat yet. Maybe he didn't know how, if he was new to this kind of thing?

The(S)wordsman: Just checked out your profile, since I know pretty much nothing about you. My preferences are… broad, to say the least. Outside of gender.

JrFred: Well, thank God.

The(S)wordsman: What do you mean?

JrFred: I thought I'd done something wrong, and you'd just disappeared.

The(S)wordsman: Without saying goodbye, and leaving a forwarding address and lace handkerchief? That would be rude.

Johnny laughed out loud, relieved.

JrFred: Lace handkerchief? That how you want to play this?

The(S)wordsman: Whatever do you mean?

JrFred: The coy maiden, or the sly vixen?

The(S)wordsman: Now, now. I'll have you know I never put out on a first cyber-date.

JrFred: I think a first conversation comes before the cyber-date.

JrFred: But we can do a cyber-date next!

JrFred: This is a conversation, right?

The(S)wordsman: Yes, this is a conversation. How do you set up a cyber-date?

Johnny relaxed. God knows how he'd become so invested in this so quickly, but it seemed like way too long since he'd had this kind of banter. It took him back in time, and he should have hated it for that. But he couldn't. He found himself already liking The(S)wordsman.

JrFred: I guess we just arrange a time when we can both be on the site, and take it from there. We should just use the site for the time being. After we get to know each other, if we decide we want to continue this, maybe we could swap email addresses then?

The(S)wordsman: And meet up eventually?

The(S)wordsman: Sorry, that was forward of me.

The(S)wordsman: I don't mind being friends, if that's what you'd prefer. It's entirely up to you.

JrFred: YES, I would like to meet up. But I think we should take it a bit slower. I'm sick of fast relationships.

The(S)wordsman: However you want to play this, to use your vernacular.

Johnny shivered. 'Vernacular'.

Yeah. He definitely liked this guy.

* * *

"_You don't mind, do you?"_

"_Mind what?" Johnny asked, continuing to stroke Phil's hair where he was splayed across Johnny's torso. Phil pushed into the touch, before nuzzling his lover's chest._

"_This," he finally said. "Us."_

"_What's there to mind?"_

"_That's not an answer, John," Phil said. Johnny laughed._

"_My name just sounds weird when you say it like that, especially when you're stretched over me, naked."_

"_Not quite naked."_

"_No," Johnny murmured, and he trailed his fingers down the back of Phil's shirt. "Why won't you show me?"_

"_Show you what?" Phil muttered petulantly, before burying his face in the warm skin._

"_The scar. The one that bastard gave you on the Helicarrier."_

"_I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific."_

_Johnny rolled Phil onto his back in a second, scowling down at the agent. "You know which bastard I'm talking about. Loki. When he nearly killed you. Show me, Phillip."_

"_You're right," Phil said. "We should just stick to nicknames."_

_Johnny huffed, and reached for the buttons. Phil grabbed his hands._

"_Don't," he said softly. "Please, Johnny. I don't like to think about it. It already aches all the time. I don't want you to add to it."_

"_How would I add to it?"_

"_By seeing it. Seeing that I'm not superhuman like you, that I won't last forever. That I'd leave you behind."_

"_Have you always worried about this?"_

_Phil stroked his cheek. "Of course I have. I never thought we'd sleep together for so long."_

"_You'd leave by daylight."_

"_It's all right to make love when the lights are low. The harsh reality of—"_

"_Is that what we do? Make love?"_

Phil woke at a sound outside his door. He heard someone cursing, and realised that Steve Rogers was trying to keep to his exercise schedule, and was having trouble seeing in the dark. It was all very well for him to say that he didn't want to disturb anyone by turning on the lights. But considering his weight, he'd be a lot quieter if he didn't stumble around in the dark. Phil would have to buy him a flashlight.

Then the contents of his dream came to the forefront of his mind. Johnny never saw the scar, because Loki only happened last year, not nine years ago. And Johnny never would see the scar. The dream had 'voiced' Phil's fears – one of them – but it was the last few words that spooked him the most. 'Make love'. They never actually made love. Not what Phil would call it. Making love involved deeper feelings than he'd had for Johnny (initially), and even deeper than whatever feelings Johnny had for him.

This was ridiculous. He'd dreamed about Johnny before, naturally. It was the longest relationship Phil had ever had, so of course he was going to reminisce subconsciously as well as consciously.

But this… This was the most vivid. It had been stirred by meeting him again, that was obvious. Why he dreamed about his scar was something only a therapist could deduce, and Phil refused to go down that road. What he'd had with Johnny was something known only to seven people: the Fantastic Four, Alicia, Phil, and Nick Fury. And only Nick knew even a fraction of what Phil had felt for Johnny. Still felt for him.

Damn it. When had attraction turned to…?

Which is why it was important to move on. Six years after the break-up, and still having some kind of feelings for him? It was ludicrous, and it had to stop.

Now.

* * *

**Dreams. Love writing dream scenes.**

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

"Chapter Four"

2004

Before Johnny had managed to seduce him, there was some casual flirting, at least on Johnny's part. It was just to annoy the government agent sent to try to recruit them to a top secret agency. There were other objectives; but that was the main one, and the one which irked them – especially Johnny – the most. That was always made clear.

One day they got into the elevator together. Phil had consistently ignored or rebuffed the joking advances. There was no way the womanising Johnny Storm would genuinely be interested in him. For one thing, Phil was the wrong sex. For another, they were on opposite sides of the government agency-civilian divide. And, aside from gender, Phil was far from Johnny's usual type, i.e. young and attractive. Sure, Phil was young for his security clearance, but not as young as the Human Torch. And he wasn't some buxom brunette with long eyelashes and legs for miles.

He began to feel uncomfortable not long after the doors closed. It was always warmer around Johnny. The elevator must have exacerbated it, because he found himself loosening his half-Windsor knot and undoing the first couple of buttons on his shirt.

"Hot in here," he explained, seeing Johnny's smirk out of the corner of his eye. That wasn't suspicious at all. "I can't imagine why."

"I'm not complaining."

"Of course you're not."

"It's been exactly four months since you started coming around here," Johnny said casually, watching the elevator buttons. "Four months today."

"I'm flattered that you noticed."

"A whole third of a year."

"Thank you," Phil said dryly. "I never could do divisions."

Johnny laughed, then moved closer. Phil had to undo another button. The back of his neck was already starting to perspire.

"I liked the way you foiled that bag-snatcher," Johnny said.

"You do this often?" Phil asked, trying to keep things cool. Ha.

"Only with people I want," Johnny whispered.

And then his lips were on Phil's, and they reached for the stop button at the same moment.

It was an absurd place for a first time. In the end, they resorted to jerking each other off, coming together into Phil's handkerchief.

"You owe me a new one of these," he said, folding it while Johnny zipped them both up.

"I'll remember that," he replied, and he nipped at Phil's ear.

The next day, Fed-Ex delivered a package to his door. It contained a brand new box of top-of-the-range silk handkerchiefs. Beneath lay a pair of fluffy handcuffs, with a note attached.

'I know you've got your own, but these are much more comfortable. We'll have to try them out sometime. Are you free tonight? Johnny. P.S. Do you prefer to be the tie-er, or the tie-ee?'

Originally, Phil hadn't been free that night; he quickly cleared his schedule, made sure that he had an excuse to go to the Baxter Building the second day in a row (in case it was all a prank), and arranged a time.

'Meet 7 in foyer. Food 1st,' was the reply to Phil's text message.

Dinner was nice. There was a Thai restaurant around the corner. Away from the work atmosphere, the conversation was lighter, more humorous. Phil couldn't go into details about SHIELD missions; but he could bitch about his colleagues all he wanted, and Johnny's remarks were fresh and snarky and, to be honest, welcome.

Back at the Baxter, Johnny led Phil into his bedroom and began to strip him down.

"Think you can handle the heat, Agent?" he asked, pulling Phil close by his ass.

"Ever set the bed on fire when you masturbate?"

"Mmm." Johnny licked a line up Phil's neck to his ear. "What makes you think I need to do that?"

Phil insinuated his fingers between the spikes of Johnny's hair, and yanked his head back.

"So you are worried about needing a fire extinguisher beside your bed," he murmured, watching Johnny's eyelids flutter closed. "I've got an idea. I presume you've had," he pressed his lips to Johnny's ear, "shower sex?"

"Holy…" Johnny didn't even bother finishing the sentence. He pulled the rest of their clothes off, all the while herding Phil into the en suite, and turned on the water. "I'll just grab a rubber."

"Assuming you won't melt it off," Phil said. Johnny hesitated at the doorway. "We have regular check-ups at SHIELD, and it's been an embarrassingly long time, so…"

"I think I've pretty much burnt off any bacteria," Johnny said softly, back still to Phil, although his head was turned halfway towards him. "And I've never not used a condom."

"Then come here." Phil held out his hand. Johnny turned around, eyes trailing from Phil's fingertips all the way to his eyes. This time, he was the one allowing himself to be led, as he followed Phil into the warm spray of the shower.

They already knew that Johnny didn't get overheated from a handjob – they'd discovered that the previous day in the elevator – and found out during the course of the shower that the same applied while Phil was deep inside him, pressing him against the wall and giving him hickey after hickey with each thrust. Johnny cried out when he came, trying to muffle his voice by pressing his face into Phil's neck. It didn't quite work, and Phil lost his rhythm at the shout and the vibrations against his skin. His climax hit, and Johnny shuddered as release filled him and leaked out, mixing with the water going down the drain. He sagged against Phil, overly warm but definitely not on fire.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Phil said. Johnny laughed weakly.

"Next time, we're doing that in bed," he replied.

Phil didn't expect there to be a next time, until Johnny called his mobile the next day and suggested they meet up the following weekend.

So it began.

* * *

2013

Physically, Frankie was Johnny's type: female, gorgeous, alive. He didn't know that he was bisexual until he realised that he was attracted to Phil. He wasn't female, but he was handsome and alive, and smart-mouthed like Johnny. Okay, not like Johnny, but he had plenty of snark, and Johnny loved their conversations, especially the one on their first date. One of their few dates.

He didn't want to be alone when he thought the world was going to end, only weeks after their break-up. His one thought had been to call Phil, which was ridiculous. The agent had more important things to do than come running just because Johnny was feeling lonely. There were plenty of other fish in the sea, and Frankie provided the same kind of challenge Johnny had seen in seducing Phil. She was there, and she helped them. She even agreed to be his date for the wedding.

The relationship had – rightfully – ended soon after that.

It was that damned bouquet all over again. When they met, and as they got to know each other, Johnny didn't even think that she would be looking to settle down. She definitely gave the impression of being a career woman who liked fun on the side, but wasn't after marriage, even in the long-term. Johnny had flamed the bouquet automatically.

Yet he was convinced that, if Phil was there as his date and looking to catch the bouquet, there was no way Johnny would've incinerated it. Phil would've been doing it as a joke, and would have looked at Johnny in _that_ way. Their conversation afterwards would've been dripping with irony, not with the tension Frankie had displayed at the reception. She'd been cold as ice while they danced.

Eventually, he saw that her badass nature was something he'd never actively looked for in a woman before, and knew that his relationship – whatever it was – with Phil had ruined him for vapid, easy targets.

The more he compared them, the more Phil came out on top over Frankie. She was great; she just wasn't for Johnny.

Well, he couldn't have Phil. But Johnny sure as hell wasn't going to be alone at the next apocalypse.

* * *

JrFred was an interesting conversationalist, and Phil felt free to flirt with him. There was no physical image to present, and to set any first impressions. He could behave like he didn't spend most of the day in suit and tie, like he didn't collect Captain America trading cards, like he didn't work for a covert government organisation responsible for dealing with threats even the CIA wouldn't touch. And JrFred seemed to like him.

JrFred: When did you realise you were gay?

JrFred: If it's okay to ask.

The(S)wordsman: No, it's fine. Just remembering the last time somebody asked me that question.

The(S)wordsman: I was in the military, so it was late in life. Never even had an inkling. I thought I was asexual before that.

JrFred: Wow. With DADT… That would've sucked. No pun intended.

The(S)wordsman: A group of us went to the movies on our day off. All the other guys were drooling over the lead actress. I already knew I wouldn't be interested. I just didn't expect to find the leading man so attractive that I dreamed about him that night. A hell of an awakening. My best friend in the team kept quiet after I blurted it out to him. When he accepted a government job after he was injured, we kept in touch, and he eventually convinced me to come work for him.

JrFred: Sounds like a good friend.

The(S)wordsman: I've been lucky. Haven't had much time for anything other than a few hook-ups, and a semi-serious relationship for a few years.

JrFred: Workaholic, huh?

JrFred: Maybe you just need the right guy to come home to.

Phil was silent for a few seconds, processing that. He doubted anything could really cure him of his love for his work, even on the days when he hated it. There was too much to do, and he was obsessive when it came to making sure that things got done. Even after his injury he was raring to get back to SHIELD, just to sort out the filing he was sure had been messed up while he was out of commission.

And then he ended up working with the Avengers.

JrFred: Sorry. That sounded too domestic.

JrFred: It's your fault, for getting us into a serious discussion.

The(S)wordsman: You mean it's your fault for asking when I found out I was gay.

JrFred: I didn't know how dramatic the story would be.

The(S)wordsman: Not that dramatic. You make it sound like I worked it out by kissing someone I barely knew.

The(S)wordsman: And suddenly realising that I wanted them.

JrFred: That's kind of how I worked out I was bi.

JrFred: So this is our, what, fifth cyber-date?

JrFred: Including the first one.

The(S)wordsman: That's correct.

JrFred: And we haven't even had cyber-sex yet. I'm so proud of me.

Phil chuckled. He was reminded of a few people. Tony, Clint, Johnny… No. That road to madness led.

The(S)wordsman: That's definitely on the cards then?

JrFred: Oh yeah. Of course, we've gotta make it special. The lights down low, white rose petals on the bed, champagne, red grapes, laptops at the ready.

The(S)wordsman: Or we could skip the cyber part, and just meet up.

There was a long silence from JrFred. Phil began to worry that he'd been too forward. They'd only been communicating for about six weeks. That was the length of time between breaking up with Johnny and the incident with the Silver Surfer, where all he'd wanted to do was call the Human Torch and beg to spend some time with him. But Phil was practical, and he never begged. It was more important to monitor the situation, and SHIELD would step in.

It would've helped if they'd known how serious the situation was _beforehand_ so that they could've provided assistance, rather than letting the Fantastic Four go it alone.

JrFred: Maybe. Our two month anniversary? Sound good to you?

Phil sighed in unexpected relief.

The(S)wordsman: It sounds perfect.

* * *

2006

"How can you tell when a relationship is serious?"

Sue and Reed looked up from their wedding plans. The plans Sue was making, and trying to get Reed to focus on.

"I'm sorry, did you just ask how to tell when a relationship is serious?" Sue asked, clearly disbelieving.

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like an answer," Johnny said testily. "Is there a set length of time? A number of dates? How often you sleep together? Whether he… he stays in the morning? Whether you talk about feelings?" He faked interest in the spot on the carpet that he was scuffing with the toe of his shoe.

"Oh, honey," Sue said, and she walked over to him. "Do you love Phil Coulson?"

He made a face and shook his head. "No. I like him, but I don't love him. Anyway, that's beside the point."

"No, Johnny," she said. "That is the point. That's how you know it's serious. And I guess the length of time you've spent together. How long has it been now?"

"Nearly two years."

She nodded. "That's a long time, judging by your past relationships."

"It's not a relationship," he said quickly. "We just sleep together sometimes."

"We've noticed," Reed muttered, pretending to be involved with reading up on the wedding plans.

"It's more than sometimes," Sue said, and she grimaced. "I think I'll need therapy after this."

"I needed therapy first. I've seen you naked. I live here with you and Reed. And you're not waiting until your honeymoon. This is revenge."

"Which is why you stay over at Phil's almost as much as he stays over here?"

He didn't have an answer for that.

* * *

2007

Phil strode into Nick's office just as Clint Barton stood up.

"Good morning, Barton."

"What's up, Agent Coulson."

"Don't sound so upbeat," Phil remarked dryly, still stinging from the break-up.

"Because I'm totally going to have a super fun time with the guy who shot me in the leg," Clint said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm about as thrilled as you are, Barton, and I'm now your handler."

"In other words, you better be careful about how you address him," Nick said. The archer held up his hands in a surrender motion, and sauntered out of the office, shutting the door behind him. Nick sighed, and gestured to the chair Clint had just vacated.

"Take a seat, Phil," he said. "Thanks for doing this. We didn't want to release him back out onto the street, and the only other option would've been to—"

"Lock him up or execute him. I'm perfectly aware, director."

"So you're happy to take him on?"

Phil grit his teeth. "I look forward to the challenge, sir."

Nick smirked, and he leaned back in his desk chair. "How're things in your personal life, agent?"

"I broke up with my— with Johnny this morning, so I guess you could say my personal life is changing. I guess you could say my personal life is over for the foreseeable future."

The director frowned. "You broke up with him? But I thought you liked him."

"I wouldn't sleep with him if I didn't. Although the Human Torch is… an acquired taste."

"You seem to have the right palate. Why did you break up?"

"Because I won't be available until I've integrated Barton, and I'm not going to make Johnny wait. I've had relationships end because of work before. The only reason we've lasted this long is because I've been combining work with pleasure."

"Motherfucker," Nick sighed, and he massage the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'll take on Barton myself. I hate to say it, but Storm's been good for you, and I don't want you to lose that."

"Sir, you have more important work to worry about. And you're overestimating the feelings involved."

"Really."

"John doesn't feel all that strongly about me. He seemed relieved with the break-up. I'm only surprised he didn't initiate it sooner, if he was that happy to see me go. He's probably sick of being cast as the villain in relationships. Not that it was a relationship."

"One, everything points to it being a relationship, and two, you haven't mentioned your feelings for him."

Phil straightened his back, frowning at the director.

"You're overestimating the feelings involved," he repeated.

"Go back to him, Phil," Nick said, almost gently. "We'll manage Barton."

"Are you saying I'm not needed here, sir? The Fantastic Four are adamant about not joining forces with SHIELD—"

"They've been adamant a long time. I didn't call you off being a liaison because you were happy. I don't get to see it all that often. Not from you."

Phil gaped for only a second before collecting himself. "Regardless, it's done now, we've broken it off for good, and I can get back to doing what I do best. If you'll excuse me, director; I have a specialist to find and take under my wing."

He stood up, awaiting the word that he could leave. Eventually, the director nodded, and Phil marched out of the office.

* * *

2008

Johnny didn't think anyone could look more beautiful than his sister on her wedding day, but Alicia gave her a good run for her money. The only pity – which actually did make him feel a bit guilty, despite all the jokes to rile Ben – was that she couldn't see how beautiful she was. She was always gorgeous; but there was something about a woman in a wedding dress which made them all the more lovely. (Before Phil, he never would have used the word 'lovely'.)

Of course, that was for other people's weddings. Johnny was allergic to the thought of that kind of commitment. Deathly allergic. Really.

Alicia's father refused to come to the wedding, and Alicia just shrugged and said it was his loss. Ben had kind of torn apart a room, Reed had had to talk him out of cancelling the wedding, and Sue had spent about an hour with Alicia and come out looking stone-faced.

"It's not because of you, Ben," she'd said. Apparently, the tone of her voice was all it took. If Alicia told Ben the truth – whatever it was – later on, nobody thought to tell Johnny. He decided that, in this case, it would be better not to ask.

Now it was their wedding day, and the only reason that Johnny wasn't more bitter about Phil missing was that he'd missed Sue and Reed's nuptials as well. Johnny was dateless this time, which stung more than just his pride. Sure, there didn't seem to be anything apocalyptic on the horizon; but weddings were just another Valentine's Day, where single people were made painfully aware of their own singleness.

It'd never hurt before. And in the past, Johnny would've just hooked up with some hot young thing for the night. This time, he didn't feel like it.

God, didn't that make him feel old.

"It's nothing to do with age," Sue said, reassuring him when he visited to make sure the women were nearly ready. He kissed both his sister and Alicia on the cheek.

"Well, whatever it is, no one here can compare to you two," he said. Sue rolled her eyes and Alicia laughed. "Don't be late now. You know what happens when a wedding takes too long."

"If you've jinxed my wedding, Johnny Storm, I'll make sure we tape the wedding night and send the video footage to you," Alicia said, shaking her finger at him. He blanched.

"Glad I've got enough time to forget that before I have to eat later," he said.

"I'd ask when we're going to see you married, but…" Sue shrugged. Johnny laughed hollowly.

"Yeah. We've always known that's never gonna happen," he said. "See you ladies at the sacrificial altar."

"We'll be there soon," Alicia said. "John, thank you for being here. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"But is that a good or a bad thing?" He half-smiled. "Just call me 'Johnny'. Everyone… everyone else does."

Tensing his shoulders, he strode out of the room, closing the door carefully behind him. He made his way to the room where Reed and Ben were still adjusting their ties, each as nervous as the other. Johnny snorted, and they both whipped around.

"Hey," he said. "How's it going?"

"How's Alicia?" Ben asked.

Johnny thought about yanking his chain; but then he saw Reed shaking his head, and thought about Sue's disappointed look, and the threat of wedding night footage.

"Great," he said. "She's doing great. You'll love the dress."

Ben nodded shortly and turned back to the mirror. Reed mouthed 'thank you', and he also turned back. Johnny wondered what the hell made Reed think he was being polite for Ben's sake, when their dynamic was obvious and unchanging.

But then he glanced in the mirror, noticing the front of Reed's outfit… and, for a second, Johnny pictured Phil in the same kind of outfit. Preparing for a wedding. Whose wedding? Who would Phil marry, if he was allowed to marry, now that they'd been apart for more than a year?

The thought made him adjust the cuffs of his jacket sleeves, the few shallow scars from broken bottles itching.

It was the same story later when, just as everyone burst into applause as Ben kissed the bride, Johnny could've sworn he saw Phil among the attendees. As far as he knew, no invitation had been sent to him. One moment Johnny saw him, and the next he was gone. It had to have been a trick of the light.

Johnny didn't take anyone home.

* * *

**Quite a bit of reminiscing. Yes, that was Phil in the congregation. He sneaked in to see it, and then sneaked out again. Because that's what he does. He's a sneaky ninja. You can make up your mind whether or not he did the same thing at Reed and Sue's overseas, post-Silver Surfer wedding.**

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Chapter Five"

2013

"Good morning, Phil!" Steve chirped when Phil walked into the kitchen area. Phil was dressed for work, and the captain was dressed for a jog around the city.

"Good morning, Steve," Phil said, starting up the coffee maker. "How are you today?"

"Kind of redundant asking me that, `cause of the serum, but it's always nice to see that good manners still exist," Steve said, stretching. He settled back on the bar stool, and continuing to eat the half-a-box of cereal that made up a small part of his breakfast. "I'm okay. Didn't have any nightmares last night."

"That's great," Phil said, raising an eyebrow. "Do you remember doing anything different before you went to bed?"

"You mean out of routine? Not that I can think of."

"Hmm." Phil grabbed his favourite mug from the shelf where he'd finally conceded to storing it. "Outside stimuli may have an effect, rather than deviations from personal routine. Keep an eye on it. I don't like any of my team having nightmares. Well, you know. Your team—"

"Your team, too," Steve insisted. Bruce wandered into the kitchen then, dressed in the clothes he wore for yoga.

"Hey," he said, heading straight for the fridge. "Phil, could you—"

"Already making enough for two," Phil said, and he retrieved Bruce's mug. "JARVIS told me you were up."

"Thanks, JARVIS," Bruce said, waving in the general direction of the ceiling, before clutching his head. "Did we do anything different yesterday?"

"Apart from Tony getting us to try some super-alcoholic drink he made? It was disgusting, Phil. Maybe SHIELD could use it for removing old insignia from the Quinjets?"

"It'd strip the paint underneath as well," Bruce said. "I can still taste the vermouth."

Phil grimaced, then glanced at Steve. "That's something different."

Steve stared at him for a moment. "You mean… maybe that stopped the nightmares from coming?"

"That drink would stop a rhino in its tracks," Bruce muttered. "Hell, it'd stop the Hulk. Think I'm cured?"

"Here," Phil said, and he placed the mug on the counter in front of Bruce. "All the sugar you can handle."

Bruce snorted softly, and his eyes closed in bliss as he practically inhaled the brew. He moaned.

"God, that's good," he said.

"My guidance counsellor suggested I become a barista," Phil said dryly. "I chose a different path."

"Marry me?"

"Who's marrying Brucey?" Tony asked, sauntering into the kitchen.

"Certainly not the person trying to poison my team," Phil said. Tony paused in his tracks, and then grinned.

"It was just an experiment," he said. "For science."

"Not against me, it isn't," Bruce said.

"Say, Tony," Steve said. He took a long swig of the orange juice he'd made. "You know that drink last night?"

"Yeah?" Tony said cautiously. "Wait, before you start your lecture, got any more of that coffee going, Agent?"

'Agent'.

Phil stared at him, before his gaze slid to Steve. The nickname. That face.

It made him ache inside, deep behind the injury he'd received from Loki. Such incredible longing, stronger than he'd ever felt. He'd never even noticed the physical similarities between Johnny and Steve until post-surgery – the first time he saw Steve Rogers' face was after he'd been pulled from the Arctic – and now…

"Have mine," Phil said, pushing his mug into Tony's hands. "I'm late for work. Haven't added anything to it yet."

"You okay, Phil?" Steve asked, looking concerned. Phil took a step back.

"Fine," he said shortly. "I'll see you all tonight. Stay safe, play nice. That means you, Stark."

Tony saluted him, but Phil was hurrying from the room as fast as dignity (and his injury) would allow. 'Agent' echoed in his mind, with every floor he passed in the elevator down to the garage. Climbing into his car, starting the ignition. It was like he was suddenly confronted with a ghost, or the reality of a ghost which had been lingering for a long time. He gripped the steering wheel as he guided the car out of the garage and off the property.

* * *

There was something both serious and playful about Johnny's online friend. Sue had commented on his changed demeanour. He couldn't help it; he liked this guy, whoever it was, and he was looking forward to meeting The(S)wordsman. He actually felt like he could do this. All the time he'd spent searching, but never really believing he'd find anyone who could make up for losing Phil…

Was he really just trying to fill that hole, all this time? Why did he never notice that there'd been a hole there to begin with?

JrFred: So. Your first time?

The(S)wordsman: Ah, this is your way of having cyber-sex without actually having cyber-sex?

JrFred: Darn, you saw straight through me.

JrFred: Seriously, though. If you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to.

The(S)wordsman: Before my only long-term 'thing', I'd been with a total of five people, one of them twice, and the second time was a complete accident. Only one of them wasn't a one-night stand, and we had to break up because of my work.

JrFred: God, I hate it when people have to break up for work.

JrFred: You there? Sorry. It's a sensitive issue.

JrFred: You were saying?

JrFred: (S)words?

The(S)wordsman: Well, it's my fault, since it's my work that's the culprit. But my first time was on my twenty-eighth birthday. Just a one-off with some guy I met at a bar. Never thought I'd be part of a cliché.

JrFred: Nothing special about it?

The(S)wordsman: Why're you digging for details?

JrFred: When we get together, I plan to make your first time with someone you've met online a night you'll never forget. I plan to top all other firsts.

The(S)wordsman: Oh, so you want to make sure you pop that cherry to the best of your ability?

JrFred: Hey, you'll be popping the same cherry for me. I've never found anyone online that I've wanted to meet in real life.

The(S)wordsman: In which case, you'll have to tell me about your first time. Or your last time? We'll need to coincide our tastes to make our first time spectacular.

Johnny swallowed the pulsing he could feel in his throat. It didn't go away. This really was getting serious. It was possible he'd become emotionally invested. And what about when The(S)wordsman left him? That was the only way this could go, after all.

His last time had been with Phil.

The(S)wordsman: JF? Are you there?

The(S)wordsman: Obviously it would only happen if we got together. We don't have to if you don't want to. I don't even remember who suggested it in the first place.

JrFred: Yeah, you do. Our two month anniversary since we met is eleven days away. Where do you want to meet for dinner?

As they set a date, Johnny began to feel lighter. Maybe things would be okay. Well, he'd find out in less than two weeks.

* * *

2007

Phil knew damn well why he felt listless, as he continued to watch Barton fire arrow after arrow into the targets on the range. He knew that the archer was expecting to be asked about his weapon of choice; Phil wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. It wasn't as though he didn't already know the answer.

Barton was just as cocky as Johnny, with the potential to do so much with his life. Phil fleetingly wondered whether his new asset could be trained to do more than just snipe (in more ways than one).

"How would you feel about learning to fly?" Phil asked. Barton's shot went wild, and he turned to look at Phil with wide eyes.

"What?" he said hoarsely.

"Your codename is Hawkeye. I've heard you complaining about the way others pilot the aircraft. Think you can do any better, Birdy?"

Barton's eyes narrowed. "Damn right I could."

"So do you want to learn?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I like to test my new assets. You missed your last shot."

Barton glanced at the target, then back to Phil. "You distracted me."

"You're not going to make a very good SHIELD agent if you miss a target because you're distracted." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and head cocked. "You really would like to learn to fly."

He shrugged. "Never got to go on the trapeze. I only know archery."

"You can use a gun?"

"Yeah, I learnt how to do that on the job."

Phil knew what 'on the job' meant, and that worried him. He didn't want all of Barton's learning experiences to have bad memories attached. If anyone had mentioned teaching him anything while he was at SHIELD, that would explain why he'd been uncooperative.

"I'll supervise your lessons," Phil said. "Starting with theory, because that's regulations. I don't care how much 'on the job' is your learning style." Barton opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. "Problem, specialist?"

"No. Sir."

"Barton, I've had to give up a… a good thing to help you become the best agent you can be, and I really do believe that you could be one of the best in SHIELD's history, if you just put your mind to it—"

"And learn my place."

"And ascend the ranks highly enough that you can get away with your own style of carrying out the missions assigned to you. In fact, it's not just about ascending ranks. It's about earning your handler's trust. And, for the time being," he sat back, "I am your handler. When I've come to trust your instincts as much as you trust them, you will be given freer reign."

"When will that be?"

Phil raised his eyebrows. "Do you have somewhere else to be, Agent Barton?"

"Guess not."

"Then you can learn to be patient. Surely you know what that's like? Waiting hours on end before you can take the perfect shot, adapting to circumstances." Barton nodded.

"What did you give up, sir?" he asked, looking up from his bow.

"Just… someone."

"Was she pretty?" Barton said, the edges of his mouth twitching. Phil laughed softly.

"'He' was very pretty," he said, amused by the way Barton's eyes widened with surprise. "Very… very pretty indeed."

"You're so dedicated to your job that you'd give up the man of your dreams—"

"That's exaggerating it…"

"Because your boss told you to look after me?"

"I gave him up because I believe in you, and believe that we can be a great team. We could leave all other teams in the dust."

Barton moved closer to Phil, studying him. "You think so?"

"I do."

He nodded slowly. "You've given up love for this."

"It wasn't love; that was made very clear. Look, Barton, the point is that this isn't just a job for me. It's my life, my whole life now, and I'm devoting it to helping you. You're my new project. Make me proud, Barton. Make all the sacrifices worth it."

From the set of his jaw, Phil could tell that he'd gotten through to the archer. With any luck, he'd be proven right.

Then maybe this inexplicable ache would leave him alone.

* * *

2012

The Fantastic Four staggered back into their suite in the Baxter Building. Alicia already had food and drink ready and had run baths for each of them.

"Bless you, friend-in-law," Johnny said, patting her shoulder on the way past. She caught his hand.

"Johnny," she said. "There was a call. Director Fury thought you should know…"

Johnny stared at her. "What happened?" he asked.

"There was an attack on one of the headquarters, and Phil—"

"No," Johnny said, shaking his head frantically. "No. He didn't… he couldn't…"

"He's in a coma," Alicia said. It took a few seconds to sink in, and then Johnny sagged with relief. Reed caught him under the arms, and helped him to an armchair.

"What happened?" he asked as Johnny buried his face in his hands.

"He was stabbed," she said. "He nearly bled out before they could get him to a hospital, and arrested a few times."

"He almost died," Johnny said hollowly. "That's why I felt like someone walked over my grave." He looked up. "Do you think I could vis… No. I can't. He doesn't… he won't, wouldn't care. I should stay away. I'll just… send a card."

"You can't just send a card, Johnny!" Sue told him.

"Fine. I'll send flowers or something."

A few days later, Johnny sneaked into the hospital wing. Apparently the Avengers didn't know yet, which was just as well. If they were guarding him, he wouldn't have a chance of getting through undetected. Fury let him in with flowers, which Johnny put among the others already accumulating. He didn't leave a card, though. Just the flowers… and a gentle kiss at the edge of Phil's lips, away from the breathing tube. He gripped the metal railing on the side of the bed.

"Please don't die, Phil," he said, voice cracking. "Please."

* * *

2004

The moment Phil realised that he was in an unfamiliar place, he did a quick mental scan of the last few things he remembered. Johnny's tongue did amazing things, that he knew, and his erection sprang forth as an additional reminder. As if he could forget. And that arm slung around his body from behind, firmly muscled and warm as a furnace. He remembered being pinned down after they got back to bed, reawakened quickly by the trail of fire (thankfully metaphorical) that Johnny licked down to his…

"Agent," Johnny groaned, pulling him close. "Well, well. Congratulations are in order. You're the first man I've ever been with."

"Popped your anal sex cherry, did I?"

"No need to be crude."

"I've slept in. It tends to make me cranky."

"What time is it?" he said, turning over. Phil breathed out evenly once he was no longer being clung onto. "Huh. Seven forty-six."

"Damn it," Phil said, and he was out of bed in seconds, grabbing his watch from the nightstand and already looking for his underwear. That's right. The en suite.

"Phil? It's still early—"

"Not for me, it isn't," he said.

"I was awake before you."

"Good thing for you that sex appears to tire me out," Phil said, struggling into his underpants. He'd have to go home first to get changed. He should've known better, going out with Johnny Storm. "If I'd been more awake, and you'd made any kind of wrong move, I would've had you on your back with my arms around in your throat, and _not_ in a fun way."

"No erotic asphyxiation for us then? Pity."

"Not my thing, Johnny."

"Hmm." Phil didn't bother buttoning his shirt up the whole way, and he left his belt and tie aside. "We'll have to do this again sometime."

Phil laughed strangely. "Yeah, right. Call me."

"You call me," Johnny said, tone playful as he sat up in bed, and Phil noticed what he imagined was morning wood. Tilting his head, he approached Johnny, whose smile faded, and leaned over him.

"No," Phil said. He grabbed a fistful of Johnny's hair and tugged him close. Hair-pulling seemed to be one of the man's kinks, judging by the low groan. "You. Call. Me."

Then he planted the filthiest kiss he could on the Human Torch, dirtier than anything they'd shared the night before. He ran a finger down Johnny's front, feeling the heat start to crank up, and simply touched the tip of the hard-on evident under the sheet. Johnny's hips bucked up, and Phil pulled away from the kiss, letting go of Johnny's hair.

"Buh…"

"See you later, Johnny," Phil said, eyelids at half-mast. He chuckled as Johnny's pupils dilated at a rapid pace, and withdrew from the room.

It wasn't until he got home that he realised he'd left his belt and tie behind. Good thing he had spares.

But, fun as it was, he knew that – in the unlikely event of this happening again – there was no way he could spend another morning after with Johnny Storm. It would be too awkward (he was lucky to get out before the others emerged from their rooms), and he really did have to get to work. Not that he regretted blowing the afternoon off the previous day; it really had been too long since he'd gotten laid, and Nick would probably give him some special award.

Johnny Storm's first male partner? Really?

Phil whistled as he drove in to work.

That night, he arrived home to find his belt, a new tie, and a note on the front doorstep.

'More expensive to replace than handkerchiefs, but you wouldn't feel the same way about the old tie if you knew that I used it to jerk off after you left. I'll call. J.'

* * *

**It was supposed to be more awkward, but it definitely didn't end up that way. Oops?**

**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Chapter Six"

2013

Central Park was being torn up. SHIELD's job, right now, was to protect the park as much as possible, now that all civilians had been evacuated from the area. The battle had descended into a superheroes vs supervillains bust-up.

The Big Bad was a huge metal machine which had been dropped from the sky, being controlled by Victor von Doom and protected by the Brotherhood led by Magneto. Professor Xavier's students had been sent to fight against their fellow mutants, Spiderman had come out of nowhere to help Reed, Susan, and Ben capture von Doom, and Johnny and the Avengers were trying to bring down the machine.

"The jaw's never open long enough for me to get in," Johnny complained over the comms. The machine breathed fire, and the fire department had been called on, as well as anyone who could get their hands on extinguishers, to help douse the flames. "Can't someone mobilise Victor already?"

"They're on it," Tony said over the machine's roar. "Storm, if I manage to blast the lower jaw off, can you get inside?"

"Don't know whether I'd fit inside you, Stark."

"Sorry, but I'm in a committed relationship, Matchstick."

"Iron Man, soon as you see your shot, take it," Steve said, interrupting the banter. Johnny snorted audibly. "Got a problem, Storm?"

"Nope, Rogers. Not a one."

"Good. Tony, will the comms withstand that heat?"

"Doesn't matter," Johnny said. "I'll take my unit off before I take the dive."

Steve didn't have to say anything for his displeasure to be apparent. "Very well. If you think you know best."

"I know my body better than anyone else, Rogers. The only other person who knows it as well is…" He trailed off. "Stark, the left hinge is weaker than the right. Thor's hit that spot the most. Make sure he doesn't send any more electricity towards it while I'm in there. Got it?"

"Yep," Tony said, zooming around to the other side of the metal monster. He fired rapidly at the jaw, getting closer and closer, and ducked out of the way when more flames burst towards him. Johnny flew there in time to absorb and block it.

"Rogers, if you boomerang your shield off the edge, that could help," he said.

Before Steve could do that, webbing sprang towards the creature's head, followed by Spiderman, who wrapped the rope-like substance underneath the jaw. He vaulted out the other side and yanked. The underside of the head hit the ground, dislodging the jaw further. Fire burnt the webbing, but it was enough time for Captain America's shield to bounce off the left hinge and return to his hand.

Johnny dropped his comm. unit and dove towards the creature. He struck out with his legs first, taking the impact of the flames and using it to kick the jaw off the rest of the way. He flew inside the machine, and regretted not having some way of communicating with Iron Man when he came face to face with the engine. Hopefully it wouldn't be anything different to what von Doom had worked with before.

He bent to get a closer look. As soon as he touched the outside of the engine, a large metal pole – red hot from the heat – flew around and crashed into Johnny's side. He gasped loudly and fell to his knees, ducking as another pole swept past. He scrambled out of the way, wincing in pain. There'd be a hell of a bruise there.

_Soft kisses against heated skin, blue and black marks surrounded by yellow, bruising the result of another battle…_

Johnny shook his head, dislodging the memory. He directed flames at the poles when they got close, turning up the heat so that they'd weld together. Then he climbed over them (in too much pain to vault), and set to work pulling apart the inside of the machine, one piece at a time.

* * *

Phil was trying to handle several lines at once, coordinating his team and liaising with others from a Quinjet above. He'd seen Johnny's actions and hoped that he knew what he was doing. If he miscalculated…

"We've apprehended Doom," Reed panted into his earpiece. "Have you got someplace to hold him?"

"Sending a cage now," Phil said, and he switched channels to another pilot. "Drop the load."

"What about the mutants?"

"I'll talk to Xavier. Just follow orders."

"Yes, sir."

Phil switched back. "Richards? It's on your way. Head to copter four, east of your location."

"Got it, Phil. Where's Johnny?"

"Inside the machine. You didn't see him go in?"

"We didn't really have the best vantage point."

"'Phil'?" Sitwell mouthed. Phil shook his head. He wasn't going into his history with the Fantastic Four.

"We'll keep track of him. Just deal with your captive," he said. "Over."

He almost sagged with relief when Johnny flew out, leaving a dying metal beast behind and dusting himself off casually. Phil heard the tense congratulations that Steve gave Johnny, before switching to monitor those still locking horns (in some cases literally).

* * *

Johnny's leg was twitching as he waited, impatiently, to be given a more thorough examination. He wasn't in pain anymore – the heat of his body really was as good as a spa – and they had plenty of medical supplies at the Baxter. There wasn't anything wrong with him. But it was procedure, apparently, and if there was a chance that Phil…

"Let's have a look at you," a female nurse said, coming up to him. She smiled slightly. "It's uncanny."

"What is?"

"How much you look like Captain America."

Johnny gritted his teeth. "I don't. Look. Like him."

"Well, the hair's different; but your faces are so alike, I could swear you were brothers. And you both wear the skin-tight outfits." She looked him up and down. He sighed.

"You're wrong," he said. "We're nothing like each other."

"Really? Because, honey, you could be brothers."

"We're not really all that alike," Steve piped up from two beds over. Goddamned super soldier hearing. "Well, kind of, but Storm doesn't like to talk about it."

"You try being compared to people's childhood hero, and knowing you come up short," Johnny shot back. He jumped off the bed. "I'm done here. I'm not part of SHIELD, and there are supplies back home. Thanks, but no thanks. And I don't swing that way, 'honey'," he added to the nurse, before brushing past.

"Wait, Johnny," Sue said, trying to grab him as he passed. He pushed her arm away.

"Leave it, Susan," he said. "I'll see you guys later."

"But Phil might—"

"No more," he said, scowling. "I'm not waiting around for something that isn't going to happen."

* * *

Rolling his eyes when he saw the state his team was in, Phil stood between Thor and Steve's beds, since they needed the least work. Tony had a few bumps which were being iced, mainly at Pepper's over-the-phone insistence. Clint had gashes on his arms from tree bark, and Natasha was having her joints examined for any strain. Bruce was groggy, but waking.

"I don't know how you could've stood him," Steve said. Phil glanced at him when he realised he was being addressed.

"Whom are you referring to?" he asked.

"The Human Torch. He's rude and arrogant and short-tempered."

"And jealous of you," Tony sang. Then he returned to his phone call. "Not you, Pep. I was talking to Spangles."

"I don't know about that," Steve said, but he chewed on his lip all the same. Phil cocked his head.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Something about being compared to me, and… he used the words 'coming up short'."

"Hmm." Phil kept an eye on Bruce as the scientist struggled to sit up in bed. "Stay where you are, doctor. We're not leaving anytime soon."

"Okay, Phil."

"There are physical similarities," he continued. "Only a few. I wouldn't have thought too many people would notice. Your real face was known to comparatively few people until recently. Most of the public would only see the cowl. If anything, I would've said that you'd be compared to Johnny, only you've technically been alive for much longer."

"Thanks," Steve said, rubbing the back of his head. "I think."

"Why would… I don't know what Johnny has to feel jealous about. He's not as bad as you think. He's protective of his family, he's matured since I first met him, and he's," a passionate lover, "very energetic. And at least one or two people on this team suffer from some amount of arrogance." He raised an eyebrow. Thor chuckled, and Tony gave Phil the finger. "He's an acquired… taste."

That conversation with Nick felt like it had happened only yesterday.

"Anyway, he's gone now," Steve said, shrugging.

"Gone? Where?"

"Back home, he told us. Just a few minutes ago."

"Did he undergo a proper examination?" Phil asked.

"He doesn't work for SHIELD," Clint said, flexing his arms now that they were bandaged up. He grimaced. "A lot of these people don't. I don't know why you insisted on this, when they can get just as good care anywhere else."

Phil didn't know either. He could have gone to the Baxter Building to see Johnny anytime he wanted; he shouldn't have been using work as a cover. Then he reminded himself of the date tomorrow night, and immediately felt guilty. Johnny was ancient history; JrFred wasn't.

"Very well," he said. "I'll gather the paperwork for this, and meet you at the tower."

* * *

Steve was waiting for the others to come along when Director Fury appeared in front of him.

"Sir," Steve said, snapping to attention.

"At ease, soldier. Things sounded kind of tense on the comms. Thought I should come check to make sure I didn't have to put out any fires in medical."

"No need, sir. Phil was there."

Fury tilted his head, bird-like. Steve wondered what kind of bird he would be. "Was Johnny Storm there at the same time?"

"Same time?"

"As Coulson."

"No, sir. Storm left before Phil arrived."

"How did they seem?"

Steve stared at him, confused. "Director, why does everyone keep talking about Johnny Storm? He isn't a nice person."

"He can be, to people he cares about."

"Then how does he get people to care about him?"

"Well," Fury leaned back against the opposite wall at the entrance, arms crossed, "it takes awhile. He's an acquired taste."

"…Funny."

"What?"

"Phil used that phrase to describe him before."

"Huh. I'm not surprised. That's where I got it from."

"I don't understand, sir."

Fury tapped his boot against the gravel of the walkway. "You know that Agent Coulson liaised with the Fantastic Four several years ago?"

"Yes. Storm told me when we met."

"Phil was with them for three years. He was supposed to be there for exchange of information, and to try to convince them to join SHIELD. Of course, they didn't."

"Three years? And he didn't kill Storm?"

"Phil doesn't make it a habit of killing his lovers."

Steve's jaw dropped. "Lovers?"

"You got it."

"…I'm sorry, but how…?"

"Do I need to explain the birds and bees to you? Or pride?"

"No, of course not. I've been around for months, and I'm living with… well, you know my team-mates."

"This is between us, Rogers. Understand? Those years that Phil was with Storm… it was different. Phil was happy, happier than I've ever seen him. His sense of humour became more pronounced, he was relaxed, his firing accuracy was up, and he actually stayed in medical for as long as he was told. He took regulation amount of time off, which you know he never does. I kept him on there as long as I could because it'd made such a change. Whatever else you say about Johnny Storm, he was good for Phil. I only wish I'd seen more of it. What I saw… They were right for each other, balanced each other out. Phil brought responsibility and stability to the relationship, and even kept Storm on the straight and narrow for awhile. Johnny brought the fun and – I can't believe I'm saying this – warmth."

"I can't believe it, either," Steve said softly, staring at the ground. He looked back up at the director. "They really helped each other?" Fury nodded. "Why aren't they together anymore?"

"Work. Phil thought it'd be better to… No. That's his story to tell, if he wants to. Don't force it out of him, Rogers. You know that your puppy dog eyes can get him to do just about anything, and I don't want you abusing that power. Not with my agent."

"Can't anything be done to fix it?"

Fury sighed. "Phil was convinced that Storm was glad it was over. I'm not so sure, but there's no way he'd speak to me about it."

"Same here, sir."

"I'm not trying to get you to do anything on that front, captain. But I thought you should know. Just… try not to be too hard on the Human Torch. Three years is not casual for anyone with his history. If he snaps at you…"

"You think that it's because I look like him, and I get to work with Phil now."

"And Phil's been your biggest fan since he was a kid."

Steve processed this. "So you really think he's jealous?"

"It's entirely possible."

Before Fury could leave, Steve spoke again. "When I first met him, Phil was friendly, and the others have told me about his sense of humour. I see it sometimes. But they all say he's subdued, and I agree."

"He's certainly more bitter since he was stabbed. He lost a lot that day, and if I could go back in time and fix it, I would. But more than that. I'd go back to the day he broke up with Johnny Storm and stop it from happening, or get Phil to reconsider. It's possibly the biggest mistake of his life, and he refuses to admit it. And he doesn't have the one person who could make this easier and make him happy again."

Steve nodded, watching as the director of SHIELD left as quietly as he'd arrived. His team-mates approached.

"What did Cyclops want?" Tony asked.

"It's… it's nothing," Steve said. They looked disbelieving. "I'll tell you later, okay?"

Chances are, he would need their help to fix this.

* * *

**Fury's just an ol' gossip, isn't he? I suppose they need some kind of hobby at SHIELD, and a director can delegate, leaving him with more time. Comparatively.**

**Shorter chapter than the others. Ah well.**

**Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

"Chapter Seven"

2005

"Today?" Phil asked, arching an eyebrow. Johnny had sent him a message asking him to come to the Baxter at seven, and had just finished explaining his plan.

"It's been a year since we got together," Johnny said. He tugged Phil into the lift by the cuff of his jacket sleeve. "In this elevator."

"Has it really?"

Johnny gave him a wry look. "You know it has. As if you're ever going to forget something like that."

"How times flies," Phil said wryly.

"Only when you're having fun."

"And not tomorrow, the anniversary of our date?"

"Anniversary?" Johnny snorted. "You make it sound like we're a couple."

"I'd like to remind you that you invited me here for takeout, a movie, and sex. I have work tomorrow."

Johnny rolled his eyes, and slipped his arms around Phil's waist. "So you'll leave before a reasonable hour, like you _always_ do. No biggie."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Phil murmured, stroking the pulse point on Johnny's neck.

"You mean… you'll stay?" Johnny's gut contracted, and he sort of felt… hopeful.

"No." Phil leaned forward and nuzzled his neck. "I was referring to 'biggie'. If there's going to be sex—"

"Which there will be," Johnny said quickly, masking his disappointment.

Phil smirked, and he chuckled. "The others joining us?"

"Yeah. Sue's choice of a movie, since I ordered the takeout. It's from the same place we went to a year ago… okay, a year ago tomorrow. You're going to argue about that, aren't you?"

Phil shrugged. "Well, it's a year since our first shared orgasm, so I guess it can count."

"I was thinking more along the lines of our first kiss… Damn, let's just skip dinner and the movie. Now you've got me thinking about… is that one of those handkerchiefs I bought you?"

"No. It's the one we used a year ago today."

Johnny inhaled through his teeth, then ground up against Phil. "Definitely skip straight to the sex."

Unfortunately, that's when the elevator chose to arrive at their level. Johnny huffed, and led Phil into the common area. The others all called out their hellos, and Sue brought over the food. Phil immediately went to help her out, and Johnny couldn't help staring at his ass, wishing he'd worn jeans instead of a suit. But then he couldn't have worn the handkerchief…

The memories of their first real time together sprang to his mind while they watched _The Princess Bride_. (Sue was getting Reed to watch all the wedding movies she could get her hands on; he didn't seem to be catching on yet, which was actually hilarious.) Johnny had been petrified when Phil started to stretch him out in the shower, even though he buried his nerves under a mask of confidence. The agent kept commenting on how tight Johnny was, the burn of friction lessened with Vaseline and tenderness. Johnny had shuddered as he fell apart in Phil's arms, one leg pulling him in deeper and crying out into his neck. He'd never felt anything like it.

It just got better from there. They swapped positions as well; Johnny's guilty pleasure was using Phil's release (mixed with proper lubricant) to take him. He loved the way he could make Phil beg, even if it was only when they were in bed. And he loved giving up control to the man so competent it had been known to give Johnny a hard-on just hearing him on the phone to some SHIELD lackey.

By the end of the film, he realised he'd done nothing but stare at Phil most of the time, and fantasise the rest of the time. Remembering that his sister and the Thing were in the room cooled him down at least.

Then Sue brought out a cake with the numbers three and zero on top.

"I didn't want to think about this, but according to our calculations, this is the number of times you've… slept together," she wrinkled her nose, "which is a record for you, Johnny. So this is to celebrate the two of you. Happy anniversary for tomorrow."

Phil coughed into his fist, and smirked at Johnny.

It was closer to forty times. But who was counting?

They blew out the candles together, and Phil yanked Johnny into a kiss. It wasn't like this a year ago; Johnny would've had to initiate anything between them. He did, almost all the time. The first time Phil came onto him, pulled him into a spontaneous embrace, was only a couple of months ago. It was after Johnny had been injured while practising motorcycle tricks. It wasn't anything even remotely heroic. But it must have turned Phil on, because he'd turned up at the Baxter Building unannounced, demanded to see Johnny's injuries first hand, and ended up in his bed.

Though he did keep telling Johnny to stop taking such stupid risks. There wasn't anything stupid about it. Johnny had just been caught up in a fantasy at the wrong moment.

Phil didn't need to know that he was the subject of that fantasy.

* * *

2013

"Hey, Phil," Steve said, head popping out of the doorway to an interview room. Phil paused. "Got a sec?"

"Can I help you with something, Captain Rogers?" Phil asked as he stepped into the room. He was always all business at SHIELD; well, whenever there were other people around. Steve gestured to a chair, and Phil sat down obediently. Steve sat on the other side of the table and beamed at him.

"So you're single, aren't you?" he asked. "I mean, there's no special man – o-or lady – on your radar?"

Phil's eyebrows lowered slightly. "What are you talking about, captain?"

"I was wondering whether or not you were… attached. So to speak. Uh, yeah." Steve tried not to fidget. He was terrible at this. Phil seemed confused, and took a while to reply.

"Why do you ask?" he said.

"Well, would you be interested in, uh, dating again?"

"What makes you think—"

"Interested parties want to know," Steve said, flushing horribly. His gaze dropped to the table instead.

"…Steve, you're a sweet guy, and I've admired you for a long time. But you're more like a role model to me than a potential lover."

Steve's head snapped up. "What? No, I wasn't talking about me! I mean, if you could let me set you up with someone… I… It's just… No one should be alone." He chewed his lower lip as he watched Phil relax. "I'm not adjusted enough to this time yet, and I'm still… _reeling_ from what happened. Jumping from a very human world war to a place with much bigger problems. I'm in a time where most of my friends are dead or in nursing homes. Those who are alive won't remember me; just the legend. Somewhere inside them, they know… they'll know," he coughed, "that I'm supposed to be dead."

Phil gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. I wish we could help, but—"

"Only time can heal this," Steve said. "The point is, I'm not ready to move on and find a life partner. I'm not. But you… Phil, I just wanna help. I think you need someone in your life who's not connected to work— well, maybe connected – loosely connected – to work, but who you don't see all day, every day. Someone who—"

"Captain – Steve – thank you for the thought, but I'm doing fine," Phil said, and he stood up. Steve scrambled to his feet inelegantly. "There may be some movement on that front soon. I'm flattered that you're so concerned, and I promise. You'll be the first to know how it goes."

Steve gaped as Phil left the room. Okay. He needed to try something else. But what? If Phil was into someone who wasn't Johnny, then this was a no-go.

It didn't make sense. Surely Director Fury knew what he was talking about?

That's why he was now standing in front of his team-mates, asking for their help.

"…and I probably shouldn't have told you any of this, but I have no idea how to go about getting them together, and it would be a bad idea to sabotage any relationship, especially if Phil is happy, and I don't really like Johnny Storm but I do like his family, and Phil should be with…" He was just receiving blank looks, and trailed off. "Help?"

"Fuck," Clint muttered. "I was the reason they split up. I was causing trouble at SHIELD, so Fury put Phil onto my case. Phil said that he gave up something good – I think he said 'sacrificed' – to help assimilate me. Pull me to heel was the phrase at least one handler used." He shrugged, looking distressed. "If I'd realised… I was too stupid and reckless a-and selfish—"

"It's not your fault," Natasha said, squeezing his shoulder. "Phil chose to end things. We all know him; he could have worked around it if he thought he needed to."

"Still—"

"And you had no reason to trust SHIELD, just as they had no reason to trust you. It was the right decision, putting you with Phil. The three of us are unstoppable together."

"That doesn't stop me feeling guilty for ruining the best time of Phil's life," Clint said. He scowled. "I'd been with him for a year before I hacked into the system to find out what I could. The couple of years before they broke up, Phil's records reported fewer escapes from medical, faster healing, and fewer injuries. Everything Fury told Steve was true. Phil was a better agent then. That explains why some people blamed me for dragging him down." He kicked a nearby table leg. "I did."

"We're not here to play the blame game," Steve said, halting any further arguments. "I need your help to make this right."

"How do you intend to do this, Steven?" Thor asked. "Do you have a plan?"

"…No. That's why I'm here. I mean, if Phil's seeing someone else—"

"'If' is the operative word here," Bruce said. He shrugged. "You told us he didn't say anything definite about it."

"If," Steve agreed, "then what do we do about it?"

"Sabotage," Tony said, bringing a fist down onto his opposite hand like a gavel. "We find out the guy's criminal history, or make one up. Blow him out of the water."

"We can't do that," Steve said, frowning. "I already told you that. It's unchristian. Fine, it's unkind. Don't any of you give me that look. But we need to investigate."

"Phil's firewalls have firewalls," Tony said, gesticulating. "And knowing him, he'll make sure there isn't an electronic paper trail. Or if there is, it'll just lead me on a wild goose chase. Hey. Firewall. Ba-doom-chick." He pretend to strike a drum set, then looked around. "Fire? Human Torch? Huh. Tough crowd."

* * *

2007

He was only being ironic when he asked Johnny if he wanted some ice cream from the stand in the park. It was summer, and there weren't many people around. The sunglasses Johnny wore, and Phil's unassuming persona, were enough to ensure that no especial attention was paid to them.

It was a surprise when Johnny said yes.

"It won't melt, will it?" Phil asked as they settled at the base of a tree. Johnny leaned back against his chest. "Get off. You're too hot for this weather."

Johnny poked his tongue out and settled back further. "You're the one wearing a suit instead of jeans and a t-shirt."

"I have to go back to work this afternoon."

"After we have lunch?"

"I already told you that."

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten."

Phil stroked Johnny's warm arm. "Of course I hadn't. Now finish your ice cream before it melts all over you."

"You're like that, wouldn't you?" Johnny said, looking at him lasciviously. "Being forced to lick melted ice cream off of me."

"Not in public," Phil said, giving him a withering look.

Johnny chuckled, and they both ate in silence for awhile. It took some time, but eventually Phil realised two things: one, Johnny's ice cream wasn't melting as fast as Phil's; and two, Johnny wasn't as warm as he was before. In fact, he was quite cool, and Phil immediately touched his arm.

"Problem?"

"Why are you so cold?" Phil asked, rubbing Johnny's skin.

"If I can protect a kid from a car exploding into a fireball, I can cool off the flames. Takes more effort, but it's over ninety-five degrees in the shade. Just trying to make you a little more comfortable." Despite his words, Johnny's cheeks were turning pink. He couldn't get sunburn, could he? Phil's heart clenched against his will.

"That's very considerate of you, Johnny, but aren't you uncomfortable?"

Johnny shrugged, then shook his head. "Nah. It's nice to feel… I dunno, normal sometimes. Like I'm not the Human Torch."

"It makes you extraordinary, Johnny, not abnormal. But thank you."

Johnny shifted. "You're welcome, Phil."

"I think we'll spend more time indoors, though, in the air-conditioning."

"Probably just as well. It's hard to stay cool around you."

"Why?" Phil asked. He was getting near the end of his cone; however, he frowned suspiciously when Johnny's head turned and his gaze appeared to zero in on Phil's mouth.

"`Cause you make me so hot, Agent," he said, dragging his eyes up to meet Phil's. Phil shivered, no longer feeling the warmth of the sun and the tree.

"Not in public," he murmured. "If I miss work this afternoon because of you…"

"Maybe we should buy a tub of ice cream on the way home, and we can try out that idea of eating it off each other."

"And here I was, trying to da—" Phil cut himself off.

"Trying to what?"

"…The idea was for us to do something not related to sex."

"We watch movies all the time."

"Not all the time, and we usually end up in bed afterwards."

Johnny turned around fully, and Phil immediately missed the contact.

"A date?" Johnny said. "That's what you want?"

"Look, it was a foolish idea—"

"No, no," he said, kneeling up. "I just thought that's what this was, going to the park. But if you want something official, yeah. Let's finish here, take a walk, and get lunch."

Phil stared at him. "You're sure?"

"Yeah. I don't usually date past a drink, but it's about time I started. Never thought I'd say this, but I feel like I'm starting late."

He took a deep breath. "Then will you go on a date with me, Johnny?"

Johnny grinned. "Love to."

* * *

2013

JrFred: Hey, (S)words.

The(S)wordsman: Hello.

JrFred: I really hate to do this, but I'm not feeling well. I had a kind of accident recently, and it's probably nothing. But there's a pain in my side, and it makes me feel nauseous.

JrFred: I'm really sorry. I just wouldn't be very good company, and I'm having to watch what I eat. I'll probably be okay in a few days.

The(S)wordsman: Have you been to a doctor? What kind of accident? Were you admitted to hospital? Why didn't you tell me sooner?

JrFred: Whoa, slow down! Like I said, it's probably nothing.

The(S)wordsman: Look, I could come to your place, or you could come to mine. Just let me know what you can eat. We don't have to do anything energetic.

The(S)wordsman: I'll also refer you to my above questions.

JrFred: *Sighs* Fine.

JrFred: I went through a preliminary examination. It wasn't a car or motorcycle crash or anything like that. No head injuries, no stitches were required. I just sort of…

Johnny wondered what he could say. The(S)wordsman was mothering him, and it was kind of adorable, not that he'd say so. It probably wouldn't be appreciated.

JrFred: I had an argument with a metal pole. The pole won. My own fault for not paying attention.

JrFred: What were your other questions? As I said, there was a prelim exam, but since nothing looked serious I was allowed to leave. And it wasn't until yesterday that I began to feel like this, so I didn't think I'd need to tell you. I don't usually get bruises.

His friend took awhile to reply. Johnny watched as the message saying that The(S)wordsman was typing a response kept appearing and disappearing. He checked his emails again, quickly swapping windows back to the conversation when he heard another message coming in.

The(S)wordsman: Damn it, JF! You need to get checked out, okay? I don't care when we meet up, just as long as you're healthy. I'll wait as long as it takes. I don't believe this is just an excuse to cancel.

JrFred: Of course it isn't! I do want to meet you.

JrFred: Listen, there's this party I'm going to in four days' time. I kind of have to go along – it's a family thing – but there'll be a lot of people there. After I've done whatever I have to do, we can hide out in a corner together, and leave whenever we want.

JrFred: Is it a date?

The(S)wordsman: This is typical of my persona life. I'm busy in four days' time. At night. And it's not even for work.

The(S)wordsman: What time of day is your family 'thing'?

JrFred: Night.

The(S)wordsman: Your health is more important. Go to a doctor or a hospital and get checked out. If you can't make it to the party, I'll skip the party I'm supposed to go to and stay with you.

JrFred: And what, keep me company?

The(S)wordsman: That's the idea. No sex until you're better. Not that we would've necessarily had sex on our first date.

The(S)wordsman: I shouldn't have posted that.

JrFred: That's okay. It made me laugh. Which is probably bad, since it hurt. Not badly, so don't panic.

The(S)wordsman: You're telling me not to panic when laughing hurts you?

JrFred: I'll let you know how I do, (S)words. But I don't want you skipping things just to hang out with me.

The(S)wordsman: I'd drop anything, anytime.

Johnny stared at the words. He remembered when Phil had said something like that to Johnny once. But then Phil said a lot of things, and he didn't always mean them. Not when they were important.

JrFred: I guess I should go make an appointment to visit the doctor, then.

The(S)wordsman: THANK you. Go. I'll talk to you later. Let me know what's happened as soon as you can, okay?

JrFred: Sure thing, (S)words.

Johnny felt bad about lying. The(S)wordsman didn't know that he was a superhero, and would heal pretty quickly.

Besides, if he didn't, and had an excuse to stay home from Ben and Alicia's fifth anniversary party, then maybe (S)words really would spend the evening with him. And Johnny was fine with that.

* * *

Phil cleared his throat during dinner.

"I may not be able to attend the Grimms' anniversary gala," he said. Several pieces of cutlery clattered to plates.

"What?" Tony said. He glanced at the others. Phil puzzled over their expressions.

"A friend might need my help," he said.

"What friend?" Clint asked.

"I do have some semblance of a life outside of SHIELD and this team. Not in order of preference," he added, wondering about their looks of distress. Maybe 'distress' was too strong a word; yet he didn't know how else he could describe it.

"This 'friend' of yours," Steve said. "It's not the man you mentioned the other day? The one you're dating?"

"Close to dating, yes."

"Look, we'll all be real disappointed if you don't come with us," Steve replied, looking at Phil appealingly from beneath his long lashes. Phil sighed.

"I don't want to disappoint you," he said. "I'm just warning you that I might be needed elsewhere."

"We need you!" Tony insisted. Phil turned his full attention to the billionaire.

"For what reason?" he asked. Tony floundered for half a minute.

"B-because you're one of us, and as a team we need to do things together," he said, like it was the answer to the meaning of life.

"What an underwhelmingly cohesive argument, Mr. Stark."

"Phil, please," Natasha said. The others added their pleas. He felt the need to cave.

"Fine," he said. "I'll make an appearance. But don't expect me to stay the whole night if I have to leave."

"I guess we'll just have to accept your compromise," Steve muttered. The others nodded.

Phil continued to puzzle over it all night.

* * *

**Silly Johnny. Uncooperative Phil. Sigh.**

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

"Chapter Eight"

Johnny didn't feel any better when he saw Phil enter the ballroom. The universe was conspiring against him; it was the exact same ballroom where Stark had held his gala a couple of months ago, when Johnny saw Phil again for the first time in six years. Now they had to meet again, and Johnny didn't have (S)words with him to show that he was over Phil. Because if anyone could help him get over…

Damn it. Did that mean he still wasn't over… after six years? Really? That was kind of pathetic. It must have been something which ran in the family, considering Susan and Reed's past.

"This is so stupid," Johnny muttered.

"What was that?"

He whipped around at the growled words from Ben.

"Not this," Johnny said, gesturing around him, wide-eyed. "No. This is great; really. You and Alicia: made for each other. Or something. I'm talking about… well, what's with picking this place for the party?"

"It's a nice place, has enough room for everyone who wanted to come along, and Tony Stark recommended it," Ben replied. He seemed tight-lipped after that, and Johnny resisted a sigh.

"I guess those are good enough reasons," he said. He patted Ben on the rocky arm. "I'll see you around, Pebbles."

He escaped quickly, and kissed Alicia on the cheek as he passed.

"Where are you going, Johnny?" she asked.

"Time for a drink," he explained. "And I'm starving. In case I don't see you again, have a nice night. And congratulations again. Hope you like my present."

"I'm sure we'll find it… interesting," she said.

"Johnny, behave yourself," Sue called.

"When do I ever misbehave these days?" he said. He winced at the words 'these days'. They'd snuck their way out like ninja secret agents, and he hoped no one had realised the significance. He did notice Nick Fury glance over in their direction, and went to hide behind the punch bowl on a nearby table. He almost hoped Stark had spiked it already.

It didn't take long to be found by Captain America.

"How are you tonight, Storm?" he asked politely.

"Fine," Johnny said. "You?"

"I owe you an apology, and I think we got off on the wrong foot." Steve stuck out his hand. "Start over?"

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Why? Who told you to play nice? Was it Fury?"

"No, of course not! It's just that if we have to work together in the future, it'd be nicer for everyone if we got along." He retracted his hand, but looked determined. Johnny chose to be worried about that, and a little irritated. "If it's because we look alike… I mean, that doesn't make any difference." Johnny tensed. "Hey, you know something? It was pointed out recently that there aren't many pictures of me – looking like this – from my time. In most pictures, my face is covered. So, when you think about it, I actually look like you. Not the other way around. I've been around longer, but people have known your face longer, so…" He seemed to run out of words then, and trailed off.

Johnny considered this. Maybe Phil didn't start something with him because he looked kind of like Steve Rogers in a certain light? But no. Phil was a huge fan, and had access to probably trillions of files, including anything pertaining to Captain America. There was no way…

"That's fascinating, captain," he said. "Apology accepted. And I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot, because I remember when I went through a Captain America phase. I'm also sorry for snapping, but then I've been accused of being hot-headed." He laughed. He didn't mean for it to sound bitter or anything; that was an accident. "See you next time the world needs to be saved."

He turned to leave, but halted when Steve spoke again.

"Phil never saw my real face until I was dug out of the ice."

Johnny turned around, slowly, until he was looking at the captain again.

"One of us cold, the other warm," he said, pointing at Steve and then himself. "But the one who's cold is the one everyone likes."

"Well, I can be stand-offish, but—"

"I don't know what you've been told, and I don't think I want to know. I sure as hell don't want to talk about it. Like I said, I'll see you at the next apocalypse. Have a good night, Captain Rogers."

For some reason, Johnny was an Avenger-magnet. After the captain, it was the two SHIELD agents. Hawkeye was trying to apologise for something as well, but he wasn't making any sense. He kept babbling that it was his fault they were both unhappy, but he never specified who, and the Black Widow eventually pulled him away. They were replaced by Stark, who drove Johnny up the wall pretty quickly. He eventually had to threaten to set the billionaire's suit on fire before he could be left alone.

It was Thor who threw an arm around Johnny's shoulders and talked about his homeland and his 'wondrous Lady Jane' and the marvels of pop tarts until they walked nearly straight into Phil. Then Thor magically disappeared in the direction of the nearest table of food, and Johnny was left standing awkwardly in front of Phil for the second time this year. The ache in his side had been exacerbated by Thor's rough treatment, the lack of food and drink in Johnny's system, and the bright lights in the room were giving him a headache.

"Hi, Phil," he said, forgetting to check his words. "I mean, good evening, Agent Coulson. I hope you're well."

"You too, Johnny. You weren't hurt the other day, were you? Inside that machine?"

"Medical couldn't find anything wrong. I'll be fine."

Phil frowned, just slightly, and seemed to study his glass of punch. Then he shook himself, and smiled blandly at Johnny.

"Glad to hear it," he said. "If it's not too personal—"

"Oh, I don't think anything's 'too personal' between us," Johnny said. "Shoot."

"Well… how's your, uh, home life?"

"It's fine. Good. We go where we need to; Reed keeps doing his research; there are no kids on the horizon, but I don't want to think about that with either of the couples there. I'm seriously considering moving, at least to another floor."

"I'm sure you'd be welcome to stay with us. There's no lack of room." Then Phil's eyes widened. "Just a, uh, just a suggestion. You could live anywhere, obviously."

"Yeah, I don't think it'd work out, somehow," Johnny said. Phil's gaze dropped again, and Johnny could've kicked himself. But there was no chance of anything happening between them again, so it's not like he was screwing up a potential relationship. "But could you call them off? I keep getting accosted by your Avengers, and it's kind of driving me nuts."

"Is it far to go?" Phil said, half-smiling. Johnny almost sagged in relief.

"That's subjective," he said. Phil laughed softly. Johnny took a step closer, settling into the same pose he used to adopt around his agent. (The agent. Not his agent.) Sue told him once that it was more than friendly, his body always angled in such a way that Phil was blocked from the most people's view possible. It was possessive, and let Phil know that he wasn't just protected, but wanted.

(Johnny ignored the fact that she actually said 'loved'. He always ignored that part.)

"I guess in my line of work everyone has to be kind of crazy. Or, to be more accurate, they can get away with being crazy because they seem normal compared to everything we have to deal with."

"You're not crazy," Johnny said. It was like the last six years never happened as he automatically touched Phil's hand, the one not holding his drink. "Though I guess dating me is enough to make anyone certifiable."

Phil chuckled again, meeting Johnny's eyes. The laughter died, and so did Johnny's smile as he began to lean in.

That was when the pain in his side made itself known, and he pulled back with a quiet hiss. He screwed his eyes shut when he saw Phil's shocked and stricken face.

"I'm sorry," Johnny whispered, and he turned away. He opened his eyes again, only to see Bruce Banner frowning at him from close by. Of course the only medical doctor in the room was going to notice. Johnny slipped through the door to the hallway, wishing that he had Sue's invisibility for once.

Safely out of sight, he steadied himself against a marble-look column. He was suddenly feeling faint-headed, and wondered whether the stress of seeing Phil was getting to him. It would be wrong to blame him, though. He'd have to talk to Alicia later on, and ask her why she felt the need to include the Avengers on the guest list. Yeah, it was the fifth anniversary; that didn't excuse being overly generous with invitations.

"Storm?"

He groaned as he looked up, and saw Banner there, wringing his hands as he studied Johnny.

"What?" he said. He probably should've reined in the sharpness, considering it might spark a Hulk-out.

"You don't seem to be well. Should you even be here?"

"I… I don't know," Johnny admitted softly. The pressure in his head was fluctuating, and he felt unsteady on his feet. "I don't…"

Then he fell to the ground, clutching the column. Bruce was at his side in an instant, grabbing Johnny's phone from his pocket and hitting some buttons.

"Mrs. Richards? Bruce Banner. Johnny's just collapsed… Outside the ballroom. He's not good. I'm getting Tony's driver to take us to the hospital. Can you meet us…? All right." He hung up and pocketed Johnny's cell, then helped him to his feet. "Can you walk?" Johnny tried to take a step, and stumbled. He felt his feet go from under him, and realised that Banner was carrying him. They were barely in the night air before Johnny heard the familiar clacking of his sister's favourite shoes.

"Johnny! Oh my God, what happened?"

"Happy!" Bruce called. "We need to get to the hospital."

"Sorry `bout the party," Johnny said, words slurring. Sue stroked his hair.

"It's okay," she said. "I'd rather go with you."

"Stay he—"

"No."

"Susan—"

"Can't you just lose consciousness like normal people?"

Right on cue, Johnny did.

* * *

2012

This time of year was invariably accompanied by mixed feelings. It marked the start of one of SHIELD's greatest partnerships – which later became a trio – but it also marked the day something died inside of Phil. He didn't recognised it for what it was until about a week after the first anniversary of his break-up with Johnny. He'd known the day, of course; Clint had given him a present, declaring Phil to be his favourite person of all time (they hadn't met the Black Widow at that stage), and thanking him for surviving a year.

Strangely, Clint seemed to be under the impression that a year was all they had together; apparently he expected to be fobbed off onto someone else now that he was 'under control'. Phil assured him that there was much more to learn, and their success rate was too high to justify transferring Clint to another handler. When Clint asked about Phil's sacrifice, and maybe returning to 'the good thing you gave up for me', Phil shrugged and told him that people were perfectly capable of moving on.

What he meant was that he was sure Johnny had moved on. A year between hook-ups was unheard of for the Human Torch, and just because Johnny was obviously more discreet now, it didn't mean that he wasn't involved with someone. Just because Phil found it a little more difficult…

So when he realised, some days later, that there was an ache inside of him that grew worse whenever he thought of Johnny, now more than a year since they'd last seen each other in person, it hit him that maybe he would never entirely be over it. Ludicrous, but there it was.

Captain America had only just been found, War Machine had been created, and alien stuff had gone down in New Mexico; by rights, Phil should've been too busy to think about the fifth anniversary of splitting up with Johnny Storm.

But he thought about it. He thought about it all day, while he was keeping track of the Avengers Initiative and trying to bring it all together. He thought about it when he went back to his apartment to get his Captain America cards from the safe (the card in the best condition was the one Johnny gave him their second Christmas together). He thought about it when he paused at the entrance to his bedroom, and had a flashback to their last Christmas together, when Phil had returned to his place and found that Johnny had broken in and decorated the entire place – included himself – with mistletoe. Especially above the bed. There was a high concentration of mistletoe above their— Phil's bed.

R&D was working on a weapon based on the destroyer that the alien Loki had unleashed. Phil oversaw some of the progress, ignoring every metaphor about his broken non-relationship that his traitorous mind came up with. He ignored the innuendo Johnny's voice made in his head, and the way the Human Torch would have loved to operate the large gun, preferably from an airplane. Phil could imagine Johnny sitting in the pilot's seat, steering with one foot, aiming with the other, squeezing the trigger with one hand and using the other to operate controls. All the while he'd be bantering with Phil.

It hurt. That place inside hurt more than ever.

"Is there a problem, sir?" one of the engineers asked. Phil realised that his eyebrows were drawn so low that he was probably scowling. He smoothed out his expression until he looked as unflappable as ever.

"How long until it's ready?" he said, returning his mind to work, and refraining from all the questions Johnny would have asked.

* * *

2013

"You idiot," Bruce said.

"You have no bedside manner," Johnny grumbled.

"You shouldn't have left medical early."

He had no answer for that, and instead began to compose counter-arguments to whatever lecture he was going to get from Sue. It was post-op, early morning, and Banner was still in his suit from the night before. He'd sent Sue home to get changed and to bring some clothes for Johnny.

"Undiagnosed internal injuries," Bruce continued, shaking his head. "Bruised ribs—"

"Only bruised. Not broken."

"Badly bruised, and they were nearly cracked. If you'd been in any kind of accident since, even just bumped into a table, there are at least two which could've broken under the strain. You have to take it easy. Good thing your muscles protected you." Johnny smirked. "There was some internal bleeding, but the doctors got that under control."

"I guess I should've told someone about the metal pole?"

Bruce's expression clearly stated 'You think?', and Johnny sighed. He was lucky; he knew that. He had superpowers in his favour. Why Victor didn't create a more dangerous security measure was beyond Johnny. Didn't the guy know that Johnny would have to get inside the monster? Hell, the Iron Man suit would've been able to take that hit without damage, assuming it was flame-proof. Still. It'd done enough damage; Johnny wasn't able to meet (S)words, and the pain stopped him from kissing Phil.

God. He was going to kiss Phil last night, wasn't he?

"Johnny Storm, you are an _idiot_," Sue said, storming (ha) into the room. She dumped a bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. "You should've told us you didn't feel well."

"I'm surprised you didn't notice," Bruce said. "Being his sister, and living with him. But," he shrugged, "maybe it just took a stranger to see it. A stranger who's also a doctor."

"It helps, I guess," Johnny said. "Don't feel bad, Susie. It's not like I wasn't told to get checked out."

"Who told you?"

"Just… someone I know. Look, I know better now, and I'm going to behave myself. I just need a computer. Can I, uh… can I have visitors?"

"You can to the Baxter," Bruce said. "The surgeon is checking on you in a few hours' time. If you're well enough, he'll discharge you into my care."

"I can go home?"

"Yes. Happy's getting my things so I can stay for as long as I'm needed. I'll send reports to the hospital on your progress, and they'll send someone every two days, or as needed. Does that sound all right to you?"

"It sounds great," Johnny said, smiling. It felt like a foreign thing, even though he'd only been smiling at Phil the night be…

"What's the matter, Johnny?" Sue asked, moving closer to him. She put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry I didn't notice. Some older sister I am, huh?"

"It's not your fault," he said, trying to smile again. He held out his other hand, and she took it. "It's my fault. And it's Victor's fault. Hey; we'll blame him. He's not here to defend himself."

"If you've jinxed us, so help me, Storm," Bruce said.

* * *

Stumbling into the kitchen the next morning, Phil regretted not taking sleeping pills. He was keyed up the night before, after Johnny disappeared. Bruce had gone missing as well, although Steve had received a call from here not long after, saying that Bruce had been called away, but not to worry. The captain had seemed uncertain, but reassured them all that Bruce would get in touch again.

That moment when Phil thought that Johnny was going to kiss him preyed on his mind as well. Phil replayed it over and over again, trying to reinterpret it. However, no matter how hard he tried, the scene never changed, and the conclusion was inescapable. Johnny was going to kiss him, then pulled back for some reason.

All these worries had kept him awake nearly all night, with occasional lapses into a restless, uneasy sleep.

Steve was preparing sandwiches, like he always did after the others had been drinking late. He smiled at Phil as he went straight for the coffee maker.

"I'm surprised you keep to such a routine," Steve remarked. "As a senior agent at SHIELD, I would've thought you'd be too paranoid to have a set schedule."

"We must have some order in our lives, captain, or else we'd all go… crazy." He blanched at the memory of his doomed conversation with Johnny. "Uh, heard anything from Bruce yet?"

"Yeah," Steve said. Phil sat his mug beside the coffee maker and turned to give the captain his full attention. "Johnny's recovering well. The surgery was short, and—"

"What?" Phil said, voice rasping. The bottom had suddenly dropped out of his world. "Johnny Storm? Surgery?"

Steve hummed, and nodded. "That's why Bruce left the party. Johnny collapsed outside the ballroom, so Bruce took him to the hospital. Internal injuries. Nothing major, but it was bad enough for surgery, and to keep him in overnight."

"And you knew all of this when?"

"Last night, when Bruce called."

Phil gaped. "And you didn't think to tell me until now?"

Steve's eyes widened. "Well, it's not like you and Storm know each other that well. I said I'd tell you in the morning, since you need your sleep, and I didn't want you to worry about something so minor… Phil, where are you going?"

"I need to go," Phil said, halfway out the kitchen door. "Please convey my apologies to the others, but… I have to go."

"Happy's not here—"

"I'm perfectly capable of driving, Captain Rogers! And next time there's an emergency, tell me immediately."

Phil gave him the sternest look he could muster up from the depths of his worry, and then virtually ran back to his room, ignoring the twinges from his scar. He had more important things to think about.

* * *

**Gosh! Yes, this was planned from the beginning.**

**Please review, my dears!**


	9. Chapter 9

"Chapter Nine"

2006

Phil looked severely unkempt: his hair was uncombed, there was a bit of dust on the shoulders of his unbuttoned jacket, and his tie was missing. His handkerchief was missing as well, and Johnny hoped it wasn't one of the ones he'd bought. He was stupidly attached to those. Phil leaned against the door pane, one arm parallel to the ground, propping him up. Johnny was taken aback.

"You just got back from a mission?" was all he could say. Phil nodded. "And you came straight here."

"All the way from Budapest, yeah."

"'Yeah'? Since when do you say 'yeah'?"

Phil shook his head, breathing still uneven. Johnny's gut tightened with worry.

"I need to debrief," Phil said, never wavering as he kept Johnny's gaze. Johnny swallowed.

"And you came straight here?" he repeated.

"It's not like you haven't been busy yourself. You only got back from being checked out, what, an hour ago?"

"Keeping tabs on me, huh?"

"Of course," Phil said. Johnny couldn't see an 'of course' about it.

"Uh, you said something about a debrief?" Phil nodded. "Then… why aren't you at your super secret spy headquarters?"

"Not the kind of debrief I had in mind," Phil murmured, gaze sliding down Johnny's body.

He swallowed again, shivering.

"Are you in any condition to do that?" he said.

"You're not saying 'no'."

"Hell no. You know I love celebrating a victory as much as anyone else. I just don't usually get to see you right after an op."

"Oh, Johnny," Phil said, straightening up and stepping forward. "You haven't seen anything yet."

Johnny knew that his eyes were darkening. He pulled Phil inside and closed the door firmly. Before he could move further, Phil had hefted him up so that Johnny had to cling to his body, legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders.

"Sweet mother of—"

"Feel like helping me wind down?" Phil asked. The position should've felt ridiculous; Johnny just felt turned on.

"Y-yeah," he said, nodding a little too eagerly. Phil smirked, which never failed to get his motor running in the first place, and allowed himself to be carried to his room. Safe inside, door closed, Phil pushed him up against the wall and ground into him. Johnny groaned, and his hips bucked.

"If I seem a little rough at any time," Phil murmured, the words a hot contrast to his actions, "just tell me, and I'll back off."

"You think you could be too rough for me?"

"Post-mission? Yes."

Johnny smirked. "I look forward to it. Show me what you can do, Agent."

Phil rubbed against him harder and harder, until Johnny feared that he might actually climax in his pants. He couldn't bring himself to stop Phil, too caught up in the sensation of being the one held against the wall, just like their first time. Release hit him before he knew it was coming, and he stiffened and jerked in Phil's arms. He prayed that wasn't the end, and moaned when he felt that the agent was still hard.

"Jesus Christ," he said. "Phil…"

They ended up in the shower, so Phil could wash off the dirt and sweat and Johnny could wash off his release. They kissed as the water poured over them, pounding their tired bodies. At least, Johnny thought they were tired.

When Phil shoved him onto the bed, and reached for the drawer of the nightstand, Johnny recognised that this wasn't exactly the case.

"If you want or need to stop, tell me now," Phil said.

"You were pretty thorough in cleaning me. What part of me being hard again don't you understand?"

"Play nice," Phil said, crawling over him, "and I'll make you come so hard you'll scream, all without being touched. Just," he leaned down, "using this," he wrapped Johnny's hand around his erection, hissing at the hot touch, "and my voice."

Johnny actually whimpered. "God damnit, Phil. Where've you been all my life?"

"Is that an affirmative?"

"Damn right. Emphasis on the 'firm'."

Phil laughed wickedly, and Johnny briefly wondered what kind of supervillain he'd make.

Only briefly.

* * *

2013

Phil fumed all the way up in the elevator. He'd had the presence of mind to ask Steve which hospital Johnny was at, leaving the moment he heard the name. Now he wished that he'd stayed. Steve would have told him that Johnny had been discharged under Bruce's care, and was actually at the Baxter Building.

The elevator doors opened and Phil stepped out. He was confronted by Reed almost immediately.

"Nice to see you again, Agent Coulson," he said. The cold tone went unmentioned.

"Good morning, Reed," Phil said. He wasn't going to screw this up. Not this time. "I just found out that Johnny had an operation."

"Bruce called Captain Rogers last night."

"And Captain Rogers saw fit not to tell me until this morning. I would like to see Johnny."

"Why?"

Phil couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What do you mean, 'why'?"

"Does he mean anything to you anymore? Because you were the one who initiated the break-up."

"And Johnny was the one who agreed to it," Phil said. "I wouldn't have made it permanent if that wasn't what he preferred."

"What makes you think he wanted it to be permanent?" Reed pressed. "What makes you think he wanted it at all? Or did you think the relationship was just one-sided?"

"It wasn't a relationship!" The words seemed even more hollow than ever.

"Then why are you here?"

Phil huffed. "Why do you keep asking questions? Just let me see him."

"Not if you're going to hurt him," Reed said. He stretched his arms out either side when Phil attempted to pass. "Sue is just behind me, ready to utilise a force-field if necessary. Now answer my questions."

"Which ones?" Phil asked. "Which, of the many questions, do you want me to answer?"

"I want to know why you broke up with him, why you're here now, and what your intentions are towards my brother-in-law."

"I broke up with Johnny because I knew I'd be too busy at work to spend all the time I wanted to with him and it wouldn't have been fair to either of us; someone's life was at stake, and I don't regret saving it, I couldn't pretend otherwise. I'm here now because Johnny is hurt or sick, and it's common courtesy to visit, not to mention the fact that I would've been at the hospital last night if I'd been told what had happened." He exhaled steadily. "And my intention is to tell Johnny that I love him, which I can only do if you allow me to pass. You have two seconds before I demonstrate why I achieved the rank of level seven in one of the shortest times in SHIELD's history."

Reed's arms snapped back in half a second, and Phil strode past. He blushed deeply when he noticed that: one, Johnny was being kept in the common area, lying on the sofa less than a hundred yards from the elevator; two, Bruce Banner was sitting beside him, grinning at Phil; and three, Johnny was staring at him. He had every reason to; Phil had been quite loud with his declaration, and there was no way Johnny couldn't have heard it.

"Bit of a jump in your pulse there, Johnny," Bruce said. "You're fine otherwise. I'll just go and report to the surgeon that you're settled in, and do some unpacking. You'll be okay here?"

Johnny nodded. Phil's face was burning with the embarrassment; he never let his tongue run away from him like that. His words were always carefully measured. It was never like this… But then, Johnny always had a surprising, unsettling effect on him.

And… apparently, Phil loved him.

* * *

Phil loved him?

Johnny knew, in that very second, that he loved Phil, too. He had to. It was the only explanation for the way he felt around Phil; secure, wanted, stable (but off-centre). It was the only explanation for the pain he felt after the break-up, which hurt him so much that he nearly killed himself, not just by being reckless but by actually planning (and trying) to commit suicide. Why he dreamed about him.

Why he never got over him, even though he'd found (S)words.

He had to say it. He had to say those words. He couldn't not say anything.

"…Johnny? I supposed you heard what I—"

"I met someone," he blurted out. "I… He's great. And…"

Oh God, shut up, Johnny! he told himself. Why are you…? Don't screw this up!

But he had. He could tell. Phil's face had fallen as Johnny spoke, eyes shuttering, the obvious hurt destroying what could've been. He had to salvage it somehow. There had to be a way.

"Oh…"

"You never told me… and you broke up with… I don't understand, Phil! Why did you…?"

"Surely you heard that part of the conversation?" Phil said bitterly. "Surely you heard all of it?" Johnny opened his mouth, but he was interrupted. "No, Johnny. You've made it clear. I shouldn't have come. I'm just glad you're in such excellent hands. I… I'm glad." He ended on barely a whisper, head finally dropping. Johnny's heart fell with it.

"Phil," he said weakly. "Please. I didn't mean to—"

"Didn't mean to make me fall in love with you?"

Johnny gritted his teeth, trying to keep it together. So many thoughts swirled in his head – mainly chants of 'stupid, stupid, stupid' – but one other thought rose above all others, and he was verbalising it before he could censor himself.

"It wouldn't be the first time you said that you loved me, and still left the next day," he said. Phil's head jerked up, and he stared at Johnny.

"I don't remember that," he said.

"Of course you don't. You wouldn't remember saying anything so stupidly sentimental as 'I love you'."

Phil flinched, taking a step back. Johnny could see why; he'd said those last three words straight at Phil, but in such a mocking tone that, following Phil's confession, must have stung terribly. He felt like the worst kind of person, worse than he ever had before. When that woman berated him for using his powers to show off, rather than help people; when Frankie reminded him that he'd put his family's lives in danger when they were in London. (Phil would never have said that; he knew how hard Johnny would take it.)

This felt worse than any of those things.

* * *

Phil shook his head. He couldn't blame Johnny. Phil was the one who'd suggested they split up. He'd insisted that he keep working with Clint full-time, instead of checking to see whether Johnny was interested in getting back together first. He'd never gotten in contact over the six years they'd been apart. After being stabbed by Loki, he'd never thought to seize the day and call Johnny.

That was a lie. Of course he'd wanted to call. The amount of times he'd gotten to the last number, only to chicken out at the last second… He didn't want Johnny to feel obligated to visit, just because Phil was laid up in hospital.

"I'm sorry," Phil said, barely able to hear his own voice, let alone whatever Johnny was stammering. "For saying those words and not remembering them. For not calling to ask if we could catch up over a drink with whoever your partner was at the time. For not telling you why I had to end things for however long it would be." He swallowed deeply, gazing into Johnny's eyes. It made him feel closer, even though they were so far apart. "Most of all? I'm sorry I ever let you go. Biggest mistake of my life. You should know that. It was never your fault. God, Johnny, you were a victim of circumstances, and I made you that victim."

Johnny looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how to word it. Phil saved him the trouble.

"And I'm sorry I took up so much of your time," he said, getting the words out quickly.

Then, like the coward he was, he turned on his heels and ran for the elevator. Hit the down button so hard he could've broken it. The elevator was still on the floor, and he slipped inside gratefully. He pressed the button for the lobby, and then to close the doors, before allowing himself to lean on the same wall Johnny had pressed him against nine years ago.

His one consolation was JrFred. It would take a lot longer than Phil thought to get over Johnny now. With any luck, knowing that his feelings were unreciprocated would hasten the process, and he could start to fall out of love with Johnny Storm.

When had he ever said that he loved Johnny? He didn't re…

Yes. Yes, he did remember.

* * *

2007

They lay in a tangle, more tangled than usual. Johnny was on his back, panting softly, with Phil's legs entwined around his, one arm around his lover and the other bent behind his neck, acting as extra cushioning. Half of Phil's left arm was buried under Johnny's back, and the rest of his body was draped over Johnny's torso. They'd move soon; but for now, they were sticky and sated, and enjoying the afterglow. Just as long as that glow didn't become literal.

"This is great," Johnny said. He stroked Phil's back with his left hand. "Hey, lemme know when you want me to move so you can have your arm back."

"Good for now," Phil mumbled into the skin of Johnny's collarbone. The Human Torch laughed softly.

It was another few minutes before they moved. By now, they knew each other's silent queues. They cleaned up, pulled on some semblance of pyjamas, and got back into bed – all without talking. When they settled down again, Johnny lay on his side, resting his head on his elbow, the other hand resting on the mattress in front of him. Phil shuffled closer and placed his hand over Johnny's.

Their eyes connected, just for a second. Then Johnny was hovering over Phil, leaning down for a tired kiss. It lasted awhile; and by the end of it, Phil was once again flush against Johnny's chest, and Johnny breathed in his sweet, salty, earthy scent. It was perfect, even as they rolled over so that Johnny was again on his back, in their post-coitus position.

Seconds passed, then minutes. Finally, just before he fell asleep – and probably thinking that Johnny was already sleeping – Phil whispered:

"Love you, Johnny."

Eyes springing open, Johnny listened for more. All he heard were Phil's soft, even breaths and the ticking of his watch on the nightstand.

He looked down at his boyfriend – yes, he could probably use that word now – and tried to vocalise the words himself. But he couldn't. He couldn't possibly feel that way. And even if he could, Phil wouldn't hear them. He was sound asleep.

Maybe they'd work this thing out.

Maybe they would finally call it a relationship.

But could Johnny handle that?

* * *

***Sob***

**Except not really.**

**I've been worried about how the lengths of the chapters have fluctuated a bit. Oh well. I hope you don't mind? I originally wrote this out scene by scene, without assigning them to chapters. There should be between 40 and 50 scenes in total, set over a span of nine years.**

**Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

"Chapter Ten"

2012

Phil came back to consciousness, something he thought would never actually happen; his last memory was of being stabbed by Thor's brother, and telling Fury something. What was it? Well, whatever it was, it didn't matter. This clearly wasn't heaven…

Or was it?

"J'ny," he tried to say.

"Jenny?" That didn't sound like Johnny. "Is she the cellist? Stark, we have a name!"

Stark? Why in hell's name would Tony Stark be here? Or was it Howard Stark? Was Phil really dead?

"Keep your voice down, Steve," someone said. "Agent Coulson? My name is Bruce Banner. We weren't formally introduced, but we did say hello in passing. You've been asleep for several weeks. Can you open your eyes for me?"

Phil struggled to obey. The first face he saw… it had to be Johnny. Didn't it?

"J'ny." It wasn't working. His tongue was too heavy. And was that a breathing tube?

"Gonna need more than that to find your cellist," Tony said, poking his head around. Yes. Phil would recognise that face anywhere. Then he noticed that 'Johnny' had blond hair, and was wearing un-Johnny-like clothes. "Move it, Rogers. Let me record his voice, and JARVIS can trans—"

"Don't push, Tony," the blond said, nudging him back. Rogers. Oh. It was Captain America. Strangely disappointing.

So Steve Rogers did look kind of like Johnny Storm. Huh.

He tried to speak again, ask for Johnny, tell them his 'cellist' was a busking drug-runner, not his boyfriend; but Dr. Banner shushed him. Eventually Phil's actual doctor was brought in. By then, he felt less woolly-headed, and more intent on somehow communicating with Johnny. It was a stupid thought, and one he could probably blame on the drugs if anyone asked. Especially if Johnny asked. But if Phil really was going to recover – according to the doctors – then he didn't want to waste another second without seeing him face-to-face, person-to-person.

It took him awhile to come to his senses.

* * *

"He promised," Johnny said, leg jiggling as he continued to sit by the cordless phone, staring at it. Alicia patted his shoulder while she passed his armchair. That was kind of telling; he'd been there so long, in the one position, that the blind lady knew precisely where his shoulder was. More to the point, it showed that she had gotten to know him too well.

"Director Fury will ring as soon as he can," Reed called across the room. "Johnny, do you want a drink?"

"No," he said. "I need to have a clear head."

"To hear that Phil's woken up?" Ben asked. "Johnny—"

The phone rang. Even though the last fifty-three (yes, he'd been counting) times had been someone not the director of SHIELD, his reflexes were lightning quick as he grabbed the phone and answered it.

"Johnny Storm," he said.

"This is Nick Fury."

"Oh, thank God!" Johnny said, collapsing back in his chair. He saw Reed and Sue hug. "Is it Phil? Is he awake?"

"…He is."

Johnny suddenly couldn't breathe. He frantically gestured to Sue, and she was by his side in seconds, taking over the phone call.

"I'll put you on speaker," she said. Soon, the director's voice filled the room.

"His vitals are good. He's responsive, and he keeps trying to speak. His handwriting's shaky, and he's frustrated. But he's awake, and I've kept my promise. It's up to you to contact him."

"How?" Johnny asked shakily. "If he can't reply…"

"I'll relay any messages. Do you have something to say?"

There was so much, too much. Johnny shook his head. He wouldn't know where to start.

"Not yet," Sue replied. "Can we get in touch with you?"

Johnny zoned out for the rest of the conversation. It felt like raindrops falling on his hands, and he looked down. They were tears; but Sue was too far away, and she wasn't crying.

He was. The lump in his throat grew, and Johnny had to take deep, frenetic breaths to stop from passing out. He covered his face, and the dampness clung to his palms. Arms wound around his shoulders; he pressed into the touch. This was the worst feeling in the world, and the best.

Phil was awake. He was going to be all right. Even if he wasn't Johnny's, he was alive and awake and responsive.

Johnny didn't cry when Phil was in a coma, not even when there was the possibility of him dying.

But he cried now, as the relief poured out. Whoever was holding him slipped onto his lap. Between his fingers, he saw blonde hair. It was Sue. His Susie.

"Let it out," she murmured, and she kissed his hair. "Just let it out, Johnny."

He wrapped one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders, and buried his face in her clothes.

"Want him," he said through the fabric and his tears. "So much, Susie. Want Phil."

"I know, I know."

"Can't have him."

She paused. "You could. You just need to ask."

He shook his head. "Can't. Just… just can't."

"Okay. You don't have to."

* * *

2013

JrFred: I know, I know. I caved and got medical attention. It's all good now. I should be allowed to go out by next week.

The(S)wordsman: Thank God. I worried when you weren't online for a few days.

The(S)wordsman: I don't know whether you've noticed, but I've kind of grown attached to you.

JrFred: Wow, don't overwhelm me with romantic declarations or anything.

JrFred: Don't answer that. Please, ignore it.

The(S)wordsman: Too late. Does this mean you want to set up another date?

JrFred: Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

JrFred: Yes.

Phil chuckled. He needed some cheering up. JrFred was kind of saving his life. The Avengers kept giving him these worried looks. As soon as he'd left, he'd sent Bruce a text imploring him not to tell the others what he'd said, and what Johnny had said. Being rejected was one thing. He couldn't take it if the others sympathised. The doctor promised to keep mum about it.

"Phil?"

He nearly typed gibberish when the voice startled him. He looked up to see Natasha standing there, frowning.

"Can I help you, Agent Romanov? I mean, Natasha?"

"We all want to know what happened, but the others are too polite to ask you, and Bruce says that he's not telling us."

Phil sighed minutely. "I'm busy at the moment."

"Phil?"

"That will be all, specialist. I'm busy organising a date with…" He clamped his lips shut, and Natasha's eyes widened the tiniest bit.

"Does this have anything to do with Johnny Storm?" she asked. He could tell that she regretted the words the moment they left her lips.

"No. It's someone else that I've met. We missed one date. I'm not missing another one. I fully intend to meet…" Now Phil was regretting his words. "Please leave me alone, Natasha. One door has been closed, and it's my fault. That's all you need to know."

She nodded shortly. "Very well."

"And tell Nick Fury that he needs to learn how to keep other people's secrets, not just his own."

"Secret? According to the photographs Tony found, it was not very secret by your standards."

He pointed, and she left the room. JrFred was asking where he was.

The(S)wordsman: I apologise. One of the people I live with was interrogating me. The same time and place we were supposed to meet last time?

JrFred: Sounds perfect. We'll pretend these couple of weeks haven't happened. Different signs this time, though?

The(S)wordsman: What did you have in mind?

JrFred: I'll wear an actual shirt, not just a t-shirt, and wear a red and blue tie. You seem like the kind of man who'd appreciate a tie.

The(S)wordsman: Especially when you consider the uses it can be put to in the bedroom.

The(S)wordsman: That was a bit strong. We shouldn't take this too fast.

The(S)wordsman: I know that meeting this soon could be considered fast, but I don't think there are any hard and fast rules.

JrFred: Well, after a declaration like that, I won't make a joke about 'hard and fast'.

JrFred: Just let your imagination wander where it will.

Phil nearly started his reply with 'Johnny', before reminding himself that he had to get past that. JrFred couldn't be a substitute for Johnny Storm. Phil wouldn't want to be a substitute for anyone, so he couldn't treat someone else the same way.

The(S)wordsman: Well, how can I possibly top a red and blue tie?

JrFred: You could wear a funny hat?

The(S)wordsman: However did you manage to guess my nefarious plan?

JrFred: Didn't I tell you I'm psychic?

Phil loved how JrFred could pick up when he was being ironic.

Loved it.

Not as much as he loved… but it was a starting point.

The(S)wordsman: I could bring a pair of handcuffs?

JrFred: Kinky. Unless you plan to arrest me, which is super unfair.

The(S)wordsman: Good thing I wasn't drinking anything just then. 'Super unfair'?

JrFred: It was the best I could come up with at a moment's notice. You try thinking of a quick response to 'I could bring a pair of handcuffs'!

The(S)wordsman: Then I'll bring you a flower. A rose.

The(S)wordsman: JF?

The(S)wordsman: Or I could go with something a little less clichéd.

JrFred: No, no. A rose is good. But… do you want my tie?

The(S)wordsman: You've given me more than you know. And you're the current invalid. You can add it to the mountains of bouquets you probably already have.

JrFred: No mountains of bouquets. All right, you've talked me into it. You'll bring a rose. Any particular colour?

The(S)wordsman: Just went online. I'll try to bring a dark pink rose. If not, red. It's illegal for flower shops not to stock red roses.

JrFred: Dark pink or red rose. Got it.

JrFred: Any reason for dark pink?

The(S)wordsman: I went by Wikipedia. If you want to know, either check there, or ask me when we meet.

After the date was set, Phil logged off. In the language of flowers (according to Wikipedia), a dark pink rose meant gratitude. It would be too forward to get a red rose right off the bat, considering that it meant true love, and this was their first meeting. And he was still in love with Johnny Storm.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Snap out of it, Phil. You've had six years."

* * *

Tony snorted with laughter. The others were standing nearby as he hacked onto the dating website he'd traced from Phil's computer.

"You were right, Widow," he said. "Someone he's met online."

"Do you know who it is? How do we sabotage them?" Clint asked.

Tony gave him a mock-stern look. "No sabotaging this date. Remember what Cap said?"

"Not so sure about it now," Steve muttered.

"But why?" Clint said. "We don't want Phil going out with the wrong guy. Not when we know he's stuck on Johnny Storm."

"We believe he is," Natasha said, glaring at Clint. "I doubt it will be love at first sight. We need to collect intel first."

Clint stuck his tongue out at her. Tony couldn't hold it in any longer, and started giggling again.

"What is it, Tony?" Steve asked. "This isn't funny."

"Oh, it really is," Tony said, swivelling back around. He pointed to something on the screen. "I've traced… you know, if Bruce was here, I could actually speak English."

"Spare us the technical details, Stark, and get to the point," Natasha said. "Where does this person live?"

Tony's shoulders shook. "I've traced the signal to the top of the Baxter Building. The only single person we know who lives up there…"

The sound of jaws dropping was almost audible.

"You're kidding, right?" Clint said.

"Nope," Tony said, twirling around on his chair again. "Fate truly has intervened. There is a God! Somehow, Johnny Storm and Phil Coulson found each other over the internet, and have no idea who they're about to meet. They only know each other as Junior Fred and The Swordsman. And the date is in two days' time."

There was silence as everyone looked over his shoulder, following the process.

"Of all the dating site profiles in all the world wide web," Tony said in his best Humphrey Bogart voice.

"This is all speculation," Natasha said. "We must check with his family."

"Why check with the family when we can check with Brucey?" Tony asked, already pulling out his mobile and dialling.

After a short, laughter-filled conversation, it was confirmed that Johnny and Phil were, in fact, going on a blind date with each other. Bruce promised to get Sue, Reed, Ben, and Alicia to help Johnny get ready for the date. He was returning to the Avengers Mansion the next day, since Johnny had been cleared, both by his surgeon and by Bruce.

Phil stumbled over his words when he told the others that he was going on a date, and seemed bowled over by their offers to help. He was even bemused when Tony offered to organise an engagement ring.

"It's not going to come to that," he said.

"You never know," Tony said. "It's legal now. And." He slipped half a dozen condoms and a bottle of lube into Phil's pocket. "It's good to be prepared."

"No engagement ring," Phil said. "And none of this. We won't need it. Not yet."

"You might," Bruce said. "Safety is important, Phil."

"I won't—"

"Well, at least take the lubricant. You never know when you might need something to ease the way… out of handcuffs!" Tony added, trying – and failing – to look innocent. "You know, if a villain kidnaps you or something?" Phil huffed.

"Fine," he said. He threw out the condoms. "But none of these. They won't be needed tonight. At all."

"What about tomorrow morning?"

"Stark! Romanov, where's my tazer?"

* * *

2013

Johnny was torn as he arrived at the diner. He and (S)words had agreed that they should go with American food first, and then discuss possible places to go for future dates.

On one hand, he hoped for future dates. He liked (S)words, really liked him.

On the other hand, he couldn't get over how stupid he'd been. More to the point, how he'd let his mouth do some actual talking, instead of kissing. He should've just kissed Phil. Even though he was supposed to be resting, he still should've kissed Phil and held onto him and let his body do the talking. Then he wouldn't be despairing over screwing things up, and Susan wouldn't have lectured him for an hour afterwards on making the same mistake that Phil had.

At the door, he breathed in calmly, and breathed out calmly. (S)words had sent him a message saying that he was finishing work early, and would get a table by the window for them if he got there first. Johnny ducked his head, sunglasses and cap providing some disguise, and walked into the diner. He went to get a drink at the counter first, and used the mirror behind it to check the tables by the windows. Rose, rose, ro— Phil?

Johnny's heart caught in his throat. He forced his eyes downwards, and saw a flower in Phil's hands. No one else at the window tables had a rose, and not all the window tables were taken, so…

This was why the others were so supportive. Sue fussed more than usual, and even Ben was smiling. Reed kept grinning – hell, he was present – and Alicia was quiet but obviously happy, all of it a contrast to the last few days of coldness. They all knew. How did they know? Did Phil know? Was this all some kind of ploy to… make him happy? Huh. It's not like he could be annoyed about that.

Johnny took the long way around to the table, coming up behind Phil and removing his hat and sunglasses. He knew that the agent could tell someone was behind him, had probably been aware of him all this time. But did he know…?

"Hi," Johnny said. His voice sounded unfamiliar to his own ears; yet Phil tensed. "Do you… do you prefer the sword, o-or the word?"

He slowly rounded the table until he could see Phil's face. His former lover gazed up at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. Finally, his lips trembled into a smile, his eyes slid shut, and he slumped as his body relaxed.

'Thank you,' he mouthed. Aloud, eyes open again, he said, croakily, "I'm adaptable. You?"

Johnny sank into the opposite chair, dropping the last couple of inches as his legs gave up on supporting him. He shook his head, smiling like it was going out of style. He didn't think he would ever stop smiling again.

"God, I love you, Phil," he said, spine tingling when Phil's face lit up. "I don't know why I didn't say it the other day. Just… Everything makes sense now. It always did when you were there. You've always been my weak spot. Please say we won't break up again?"

"Never," Phil said, and he grabbed Johnny's hand. "Not letting you get away." He squeezed, and laughed softly. "Nice tie."

"You like it?" Johnny asked, stroking the red and blue fabric. "Someone gave it to me once. I think it's proven just as good as the Captain America card I gave him."

Phil nodded, moisture building up in his eyes. Johnny knew he probably looked exactly the same.

"This is for you," Phil said, pressing the rose into Johnny's hand. "No dark pink ones, so I got a red one. Removed the thorns for you."

"True love," Johnny said, and he tucked it into the top of the tie. Phil rolled his eyes, but his beaming smile lessened the effect. "I think I prefer that to gratitude."

"I don't know about that. I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to start again."

Johnny sniffled, trying not to let his relieved tears fall. "What do you say we start with dinner, and then go… somewhere, anywhere. I don't know. Wherever you want. I just want to be with you. Always."

"Johnny." Phil huffed another laugh. "I've missed saying your name."

"Maybe I could get you to scream it later," Johnny said, falling back into his old habit of flirting with his lover. He felt a foot hook around his ankle.

"Sounds like fun," Phil said, tone low and eyes dark.

Johnny shivered.

* * *

Phil rarely played the big spoon. But after they made love – actually made love – using the lubricant Tony had thoughtfully provided, he and Johnny somehow fell into that position.

They'd talked for a long time over their meal, and then talked some more as they walked around the same park they'd visited a number of times since that summer day with the ice cream. They'd kissed under that same tree, and talked awhile longer, trying to get to know one another again and carefully avoiding anything too painful.

Phil didn't know whether to hate or thank the Avengers for knowing who he was meeting and helping him get ready for it, right down to booking a room in his name at a nearby hotel. He was glad, however, that the flower shop he'd found didn't have any dark pink roses, and that he was too impatient to search further. The flower and tie lay tangled together on the nightstand, the bottle of lubricant beside them, and he sighed as he remembered something.

"Problem?" Johnny mumbled.

"Just one," Phil said, and he exhaled slowly. He followed that up with a kiss to Johnny's upper back. "Something Tony said last night."

"Mmm-hmm?"

"He offered to buy engagement rings for us. I wish I'd taken him up on that now, but he doesn't seem to understand…"

Phil stopped when he realised what he'd said, especially when Johnny began to wriggle around. He let go, about to apologise, when his lover instead pushed him onto his back and cuddled closer.

"Yeah," he said. "Wish you'd taken him up on that, too. Still. We get the fun of picking them out together now. Or, if you want to be stupidly traditional, you can pick them out and do the pro—"

Phil kissed the rest of the words out of his mouth. It was something they could remedy later.

"Just promise you'll say yes," he murmured.

"God yes, Phil. Of course I'll say yes."

Phil smiled, and nuzzled Johnny's neck, stroking the heart-breaking scars on his wrists.

A warm hand landed on the scar marring his own chest, and his heart echoed back an extra strong beat.

THE END

* * *

**The end! It's finished! Months after I started plotting and wrote some excerpts, and I finished it all in two days! Hurrah!**

**I shall stop using exclamation marks now. However, feel free to use them in any reviews. You know, should you choose to leave any.**

**I hope you've all enjoyed my rendering of this rare ship. Everyone is supposed to be based on the movie portrayals, so definitely not true to comics, but anyway. Story-wise, with that little scene where Phil thinks he's seeing Johnny but then realises that it's Steve, that's helped because of the hair colour, and it parallels with the later scene where Johnny sees Sue's blonde tresses. I like doing parallels. It amuses me.**

**Please review. And let me know if you want to see more of this pairing.**


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